


Heat and Fire

by JustJim, Useless_girl



Series: Home Is Where the Spark Is [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aged up characters, Alpha Derek, Angst, Bottom Stiles, Dark, Detective Stiles, Drama, Emissary in Training Stiles, Epic Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, Love, M/M, Magic, Magic Stiles, R (explicit), Sex in Beta Form, Slash, Smut, Soulmates, Spark Stiles, Supernatural - Freeform, Switch Stiles, Top Derek, Werewolves, canon and non-canon elements, dub-con, emissary bond, emissary stiles, heat cycle, m/m - Freeform, mate bond, matured Stiles, post-Teen Wolf, sterek, switch derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24148000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJim/pseuds/JustJim, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Useless_girl/pseuds/Useless_girl
Summary: The mates visit San Francisco to make Stiles move back to Beacon Hills permanently. Then Derek goes into heat and it puts their relationship to the test.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Home Is Where the Spark Is [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607563
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	1. 8: Heat and Fire - part 1

**Note:** This is the eight part of the “[Home Is Where the Spark Is](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607563)” series. To understand better what’s going on, we recommend reading the previous entries. Enjoy!

 **Fandoms:** Teen Wolf, Sterek

 **Characters/relationships:** Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale, Alan Deaton

 **Rating/category:** R (explicit), supernatural, post-Teen Wolf, canon and non-canon elements, slash, M/M, Sterek, hurt/comfort, dub-con, dark, angst, aged up characters, Spark Stiles, Magic Stiles, Emissary Stiles, Emissary in training Stiles, detective Stiles, matured Stiles, Alpha Derek, switch Derek, switch Stiles, drama, epic romance, love, magic, smut, soulmates, Mate bond, Emissary bond, werewolves, knotting, top Derek, bottom Stiles, heat cycle, sex in beta form

 **Summary:** The mates visit San Francisco to make Stiles move back to Beacon Hills permanently. Then Derek goes into heat and it puts their relationship to the test.

 **Disclaimer:** This is a product of our imagination and was written only for entertainment and fun. We don’t profit from this fanfiction and we mean no harm or disrespect against any real person, culture or custom that might appear in the story. All original pictures and fictional characters used in the story belong to their respective owners and credit goes to them.

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** [ _Just Jim edit_ ](https://jimtremor.tumblr.com/post/190102628256)

**Home Is Where the Spark Is  
** _By Just Jim & Useless-girl_

**8: Heat and Fire – Part 1**

Moving is always like a closure and the beginning of a new chapter in one’s life. Letting the old go to make room for the new. Stiles had felt like this before. First when he had moved away to the police academy’s dorm to learn and train. Back then it felt like fleeing Beacon Hills and all the horrors he had to fight himself through in order to keep his friends and the innocent safe. But it was more ways damaging than rewarding for him.

Next time he felt it was when he had started a new life in this small apartment when he came to the San Francisco Police Department as a rookie. And work he did hard to climb up to his rank of detective. It pulled him further away from his hometown and the people in it – except for his father with whom he had stayed in regular contact. The years spent here were also a good way for Stiles to take a breather, work on himself and the aftermaths of the trauma that was the Nogitsune. It was here too when he had first taken a deeper interest in the Spark in him. Where he began learning the basics of magic to understand himself better. To... well, better himself in hopes of being able to protect others (and himself) easier in the future. To stop being the human burden he so often felt like in the past.

These walls contained quite a few memories of long sleepless nights finding Stiles curled over a book, doing research on his laptop or trying to make connections in his cases. Even some drunken ones which were the rare occasions when he had let himself either relax or feel sorry for himself.

Now, at the verge of another new chapter of his life, the apartment looked empty and insignificant with most of his stuff already boxed up and labeled for the moving. Only a few necessities and pieces of furniture (like some book shelves, a comfortable old leather couch and his mattress) were left. Looking over the boxes, even he was surprised how little he actually had compared to what he initially thought.

Wiping his hands in his jeans, he took a swig from a bottle of water and plopped down on the mattress to watch Derek taping up a box labeled ‘bedroom’. There was that tension in the line of his broad back which hasn’t stopped ever since they’d agreed to do the rut together. Which was coming up. Even Stiles could feel it through their bond that they didn’t have much time. And the tension kept growing. He hated that, because it made him and his magic bitchy and uneasy.

“See? I’ve told ya I’m no hoarder...” he tried to break the frankly uncomfortable silence between them. Not even the Spotify list playing in the background could help on that.

The training with Deaton had went well enough for them to be released, sort of. Stiles was going to come back weekly to learn as much as he could but the urgency of the chaotic magic had passed so Derek hadn't been needed for training any longer, not daily at least. Christmas had been a welcome break for them both, being with Beth and Noah, focused on doing Christmas things since it was the youngest Hale's first and Derek certainly hadn't celebrated it in a long time. It had also taken away from the tension between them but as soon as Christmas had been over, it had been back. And it didn't diminish around New Year's either. Which was also to blame on the rut coming. Last year it had set in around 3 January so them packing up today, on the 1st, was cutting it very close.  
  
The signs were small, like the way he was overheating easily, especially at night, pushing away the pillows and blankets and sometimes even Stiles just to feel like he could breathe. He'd end up lounging in front of the fridge with the door open to cool down. He had gotten quieter, which was saying something for the werewolf who wasn't talkative to begin with but Stiles read the grunts and eyebrows expertly and didn't seem to mind. What the human did mind was the growing tension and Derek had no idea how to break it because he was so busy on mentally preparing for what they were going to do very soon. It was why he had suggested the packing up, it was a welcome distraction and it saved Stiles on yet another month of rent to a place which wasn't in use anymore. So welcomed that he was so focused on packing that he hadn't spoken a word at all.  
  
Blinking surprised at the unnoticed silence being broken by Stiles, he glanced around them as if he was noticing the boxes for the first time. Derek had to admit, there were fewer of them than he had thought there would be.

"I thought there would be more figurines." He was well aware that the way he phrased it showed how much of a geek he could be, to refer to them not as dolls or toys. Though he could distinctly remember holding an anime figurine about an hour ago, which had been nearly nude with big breasts and an unnatural ass and a tiny waist and he had thought about if this wasn't secret jerk off material.  
  
His voice was rough, scratchy from not talking as much as well as the start of a light fever. It would go up in a couple days, that's how he'd know it was going to start. He pretty much knew it was officially already his rut but it was mild and he didn't want to alarm Stiles. They had time.  
  
A framed Star Wars poster was in the corner, he had put it there because he had liked it and wanted it within reach so it could be one of the first things to hang once the loft was ready. Which he hadn't even said so he was sure Stiles had no clue why it had been singled out. "I guess you didn't make this home as much as you thought." Okay... even he winched at that when it slipped out. "Sorry... that was uncalled for."

Stiles' powers haven't grown with such a leap like a couple of weeks back when Derek was learning to take more of his magic. At least that wasn't an issue right now. He could hear Deaton's warning to pay attention to the balance between them and Stiles tried to do that even when Derek began closing up and pulling away, the mild symptoms of his heat not going unnoticed by the observant emissary. He was nervous too, of course. He'd be lying if he denied that, but he pushed that feeling down as much as possible. Even if it manifested in his magic sparking up time after time from the smallest triggers.  
  
Like Derek's blurted out sentence. It caused a spark to run up on his bare forearm with a crackle, like an electric discharge, before disappearing. He quickly curled his hands into fists on the mattress, ignoring the light burning of his rune on his forearm. That constant small burning has been there for a while now, obviously because of the tension between the mates. Stiles knew that Derek was still so not okay with doing this whole rut thing together, but there was no other way now. It was too close. It has probably already started. Derek's snap was just another proof of that in Stiles' dimly glowing amber eyes.  
  
For the longest time the younger man stayed quiet, lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to rein in his magic and emotions at the same time. He didn't want to make this even harder for Derek, but keeping all that tension in was... killing him.  
  
"It never felt like a real home. Just... a place to sleep and clean up at when I wasn't at work," he shrugged, glimpsing around one more time. In the end, Derek was right. It never was his real home. "For a long while I didn't even know what my home was anymore," he added quietly, avoiding looking at Derek so he just stared at the hardwood floor.

The silence stretched on even though he had apologized for the snap and the human radiated hurt even though he attempted to hide it. It made Derek duck his head as he finished taping the box and put it with the rest. He was actually looking forward to lugging them all down to the van, it was a good work out for him and a way to get rid of some of the tension in his body. Probably wise to add some extra work out once they were back in Beacon Hills to tire himself out enough to not be such a hassle to Stiles.  
  
"I haven't made a home for myself since New York." Well, if that even counted because Laura had done the whole 'making it theirs with paint and items', his room hadn't even had posters since he hadn't seen the point of it. But there had been some of his drawings making it on the walls, some pictures and there had been the start of a new comic pile... It had been a start which had been ripped away from him so he had never bothered again. Until now. It was a huge deal for him to be willing to work on the loft, make it better, make it a home for them. Taking the Star Wars framed poster in his hands, he reached for the bubble wrap. "I want to this time, though."  
  
Probably? Once they found a way to get the soul back (what even was left of it), it wasn't clear what he'd want. So he wanted to make sure to say the things he should be saying so Stiles would know what he wanted when he was sane.

"And if the loft doesn't work, we can find something else." It was his way of apologizing for his behavior even though he knew it wasn't his fault the heat was getting to him, he had warned Stiles it wasn't going to be pretty.

Stiles finally looked up when Derek talked again, watching him wrapping the framed poster up. It was one of his favorites and apparently the (not so secret) geek in Derek appreciated it too. His words made the younger man sigh a bit relieved. Because it was _their_ new beginning. They were preparing to create _their home_. That thought eased something in the human and he stood from the mattress to walk over to his man.  
  
The second his fingers touched the bare forearm, he immediately felt the difference in Derek's temperature. As a werewolf, he usually ran much hotter than his scrawnier human self. He even often called him 'his furnace' because of that. Now Stiles could feel the subtle but still noticeable difference.  
  
"The loft will be perfect for us," he whispered, sliding his hand lower on that forearm so that his thumb could swipe across the rougher skin of the matching rune. It immediately made his magic buzz a bit with a pleasant feeling. "I'm sure of it," Stiles said dividing his attention between that feeling and what he was saying. "We also deserve a proper home together. A safe place for us. I promise to ward it to keep it that way," he murmured, the dimly glowing, much softer eyes finally finding the wolf's.  
  
It was Stiles' attempt to maybe ease the tension between them a bit. Hoping as hell that it'd work, because sometimes he could've screamed or crawled up on the wall from it, because it... hurt. And for once he was unsure about how to address the problem with Derek.

Derek half-expected his skin to sizzle when the hesitant finger touched his heated arm, a slick layer of sweat coating him as if they were in summer. It was why he wasn't wearing more than the usual jeans and boots along with a T-shirt. No leather jacket, no long sleeves, anything to keep the heat at bay even though it was ridiculous because it was coming from the inside out. Once he was deep in rut, he wouldn't even be able to deal with clothes then, skin too sensitive. The thumb moved to the rune and it reacted, not with a glow this time but this tingling feeling running along his whole body.

"And we'll install fire alarms and sprinklers." Obviously, his worry wasn't as much with supernatural invasion, even though that was not a farfetched idea to ward it with how often the loft had been invaded in the past. Derek had been kidnapped right out of his own place way too easily so it could do with some upgrades. Honestly though, right now the safety of their new home wasn't on his mind, the safety of his mate was.  
  
"You should first make all the potions and balms at home, and get the heat kit together." They would have the time to unload the van probably but not much of anything else. The stress and tension between them wasn't easing the strain of the rut, if anything, it was only coaching it to appear sooner and quicker. But Derek had no idea how to undo the tension, this entire situation wasn't how it should be. It was dangerous and he had only agreed because... well, it had seemed the best for Stiles – he hadn't had panic attacks at least.  
  
His breathing hitched and his eyes flared red for a moment when the thumb caressed over the pulse of his wrist, making his own heart thump just a little louder at the attention of a sensitive spot on the werewolf's body.

"Yes, fire alarms and sprinkles and wards against fire too," Stiles nodded then paused, slightly tilting his head to the side to let his quickly moving eyes drink in the small signals of Derek's body and to study the feelings he's been monitoring mostly through their mate bond. The hot to the touch skin, the sweating, the hitches in Derek's breaths when he brushed against his wrist. The dilated pupils and flickering red irises and the slightly irregular pulse under his finger.  
  
"Everything's ready at home, don't worry. It is close, isn't it?" he asked, not moving an inch but not letting Derek's wrist go either. "It's okay. Everything's gonna be fine," he lightly squeezed it in a reassuring manner. And he said it perhaps to reassure both of them. Stiles knew that Derek needed him more now than to wallow in his own hurt feelings. He had to let that go in order to help his mate through this upcoming difficult week. "I'm as ready as I can be," he whispered at the end, looking honestly into the green eyes. He saw the worry in them and knew that Derek would hear his heart skipping a beat or two, but Stiles focused on staying as calm as he could.  
  
"We should wrap this up quickly and hit the road to get back to Beacon Hills as soon as possible," he suggested, but still didn't move away from the werewolf. "Are we... are we good?" he asked unsure and unable not to blurt that question out. Fearing the answer was a stupid thing to feel, he knew. He'd do this for Derek even if they weren't good. He had promised to help as much as he can. He wasn't going to dance back, no matter what.

_Lie._

It was clearly a lie with how the heart skipped, it was a valiant attempt to reassure them both but it mostly did the other way around. It made sense that Stiles wasn't ready, there was no way Derek was either and this wasn't even his first rut. Still, he knew that there was something the human needed to be ready, because that 'as can be' hinted towards it. But yeah, it was close, probably tomorrow by the feel of it, there was slightly more time if they found a way to get rid of this strange tension which had been between since the whole discussion about the rut had started.  
  
Sure, he wanted to push the boxes into the van, to sit in the passenger's seat while the younger man belted along with terrible songs, to let the crisp winter air caress his face with the window a little bit open as he waited for the dog joke to be thrown his way. He wanted all of that right now. However he knew there was a better way to deal with this than to rush home and force the heat to come on early because of the stress. So... maybe because he had half a soul and was dealing with considerably less social hang ups, he decided to address it.  
  
"No, we're not good. We can't start it like this so tell me what you need so you can be as ready as you could be. So it's not a lie. At this rate, with our unbalance, I'm going to jump you on the highway while you're driving." Or Stiles' magic was going to strangle him in his sleep with its displeasure which had been humming around them the past days.

Stiles' throat closed off as he narrowly missed choking on a breath from Derek's words. He was right again, though. They were not good and it was probably really not a good idea to go into it like this. Derek's decision to state that bluntly surprised him, though. He didn't expect that after the weeks of skirting around the problem, but the emissary felt kinda grateful that it wasn't him who brought up the topic again. It usually ended with Derek shutting the topic down as fast as he could or simply ignored it. Now... now it seemed he was finally starting to address the problem.  
  
The breath he's been holding released in a soft sigh then came some lip biting and nervous finger tapping against Derek's wrist. Stiles took a moment to think it through what could help him. The slight guilty look from the white lie slowly disappeared just to be replaced by the nervousness that's been thrumming in him for days now.  
  
"You're right..." he murmured hoarsely then cleared his throat, cheeks coloring a bit while he looked to the side for a few moments. Then it seemed he fought off that slight embarrassment and glimpsed up into the alpha's eyes. Searching, slightly uncertain but not from what he was about to say but because Stiles didn't know how Derek would react. He'd refused the idea more than once already, no matter how hard Stiles tried to reason with him. "And you know what would help... God, you really gonna make me say it out loud, huh? _Fine_... Have sex with me in beta form and let the magic settle back into balance," he said bravely and seriously, brows slightly knitting together. Derek had to feel it too that the balance was slightly off between them too. They had to fix that before the rut not to complicate things further. They both knew that.

Had it been about Derek's own health, he'd most likely not mention it at all if he could, he'd suffer instead of stumbling over words and end up making it worse. This wasn't about his own health though, this was about his mate's health just as much. It was easy to pull back into his own head and misery and forget he wasn't alone anymore but that was the thing, wasn't it? He wasn't alone anymore, he had a family to think about and as scary as that was, running away, even only mentally, wasn't going to fix it. It was a childish way of thinking, as if hiding under the blanket would mean the danger wasn't there because it couldn't be seen. Stiles' relief that he brought it up made him realize that it was a good thing he had pulled the proverbial blanket off.  
  
It was a good thing, Derek reminded himself at the request that followed. Everything in him balked at the idea of Stiles seeing him like that while they were having sex, it wasn't that he was ashamed of what he was. He was proud to be a werewolf and didn't want to always hide the beta shift. But the ones he had been with had never been interested in seeing him like that, had made it feel like it wasn't attractive. Stiles had never even touched him intimately while he was in that form. His claws had come out, his red eyes had shown, but never the full beta shift.  
  
Slowly his eyes slid over to the mattress still there, realizing if they were going to do this, if they wanted to restore the balance, they had to do it now. "I can't..." Derek stopped his words right there, because he _could_. It was that he didn't know how to even go from this to having sex like that. His body though, only the mention of sex seemed to be eager for it, a shiver ran along his spine at the promise of some release from all this incredible tension. An unpleasant tension formed in his stomach though, unease at not being used to this request. Nobody ever wanted this. Green eyes searched the brown ones deeply, for a hint of a lie but not even the heart displayed one. There were no lies here.  
  
Still uncomfortable, Derek took a step back to roll his shoulders, letting his head crack sideways to work out the muscles as he felt the shift starting to take over. It was seamless these days, rolling over him like a soundless wave. One moment there had been a humanoid face, and the next there was what most would call the face of a monster. Derek didn't think it was, the soul made the monsters, not the visage. Still, he kept his eyes downcast, so Stiles could still change his mind.

During the years Stiles has seen Derek in his beta form many times. After getting through the first initial shock of werewolves and other creatures living among them and realizing that Derek was one of the good guys, he never once saw him (or his shifter friends) as monsters when they were like this. Right now as he watched the easy shift of Derek's features, he felt nothing but fascination. Like always when he could witness him transforming either to this or his full wolf form. (Which, by the way, he wanted to see more of because Derek was so gorgeous and cuddly like that...)  
  
He could sense the uncertainty and uncomfortable feelings from his mate and the need to make that stop, to make him feel better washed over Stiles and he stepped to the other man. His eyes were drinking in the changed details, the long wolf-like fangs and ears and facial hair. A slender hand slowly reached up to touch the side of a warm cheek, the other sliding around Derek's waist to keep him right where he wanted him to be.  
  
There was almost the instinct to step back from the touch to his face, as if this was more vulnerable when Derek wasn't stronger or weaker like this. Maybe Stiles sensed he would because at the same time as the hand on his cheek, an arm slipped around his waist as a reminder that he didn't need to shy back from his mate. Strength-wise it was about as effective as a sheet of paper, it helped ground him though, reminded him this wasn't Kate or Jennifer, this was Stiles.

"Hey... Look at me, Derek..." he asked softly, longing to meet the beloved red alpha eyes of his mate. It meant both fire and safety for Stiles and he loved to let himself get lost in them whenever Derek let him. "You're beautiful…" he whispered, leaning a bit closer. He carefully ran his fingers along the fangs and bottom lip then let them head upwards to trace along an ear. Stiles smiled, curious yet soft amber eyes watching his mate. Then the fingers were traveling down to the alpha's nape, getting lost in the slightly longer hair there, rubbing and lightly scratching the way he knew the other liked it.  
  
Nearly unnoticeable, his whole body moved closer until their chests touched. His heartbeat was a bit faster, but not from fear. It was the building anticipation and desire unfurling in his stomach, slowly awakening the usual butterflies, making his groin stir with interest.  
  
Stiles didn't say a single word, because he wanted to give time for both of them to get used to this. Especially Derek. He loved their firsts and being desired in beta shift was definitely a first for Derek, but Stiles couldn't help it. He had told the truth. Derek was beautiful and fascinating for him without his stunning human looks too.  
  
His curiosity drove him to lean even closer, slowly pecking the bottom lip between the two protruding fangs. Then he did the same on the top lip too, just to get back to the bottom with his tongue this time. His moves were tentative, yet they carried a hint of playfulness and curiosity in them. He wanted to see (and feel) Derek's reactions to his exploring so he took small pauses to look into the red irises. There was no doubt that the human was enjoying this. A tightening hold around the broader body and a brave tongue licking between the parted lips in search for Derek's tongue were further proof of that. The fangs made it tricky to kiss in this form, but Stiles was 100% sure that they would find a solution, because he wanted to kiss his mate like this too.  
  
The wolf grunted when he was asked to look at the human, ducking his head only a little more as the fingers explored. They were sure and with intent, tracing ridges and fangs carefully, along a sensitive ear. Touches had never been kind when he was like this, nobody had ever said he was beautiful in beta shift because they had all lusted after his humanoid appearance. Tense at all the soft touches, his feverish body shivered when his nape was caressed in a reminder that it was okay. It was just them here and nobody else. Exhaling through his nose, he peered under his lashes at his mate to gauge his reaction. The bodily reaction was felt but that also could be the rut pulling at the other, it could be entirely involuntary.  
  
A sharp intake of breath echoed in the packed up apartment when Stiles gently kissed him. _Wrong… Danger_. Teeth were going to cause the bite if he wasn't careful and they were sharp, nobody should be getting close to them. Instinct made him want to take a step back, the hand on his back simply pressed against his shirt a little harder in reminder as their bodies molded tighter together. A tongue explored around his fangs to push inside his mouth and he had no idea how to kiss like this. Derek barely even dared to breathe while Stiles was foolishly brave as usual. Maybe they were both idiots. However this was what the human needed to be able to handle the rut and how were they supposed to have sex if he didn't even dare to kiss?  
  
Exhaling, he forced his body to relax slightly, to allow for this moment to continue while he opened his mouth wider, clawed hand reaching up to cup Stiles by the back of the neck, careful not to accidentally embed them in the skin as he had done in the past. As natural as it had felt to sink his sharp teeth into flesh to maul and change, as unnatural as it felt to use them in an action of affection and love. The kiss was clumsy and too careful, but it helped to feel more at ease with this.

Stiles could feel how tense Derek was. Both through his touches and the bonds. He kept holding him close and caressing his nape. That usually helped ground his pair when it was needed and now seemed to work too. When some of the tension finally bled out of the muscles, Stiles was glad for the progress and he softly moaned into Derek's mouth, letting their tongues slowly and carefully dance with each other for a few more long moments before he broke the kiss, pressing one more on the bottom lip and pressed his forehead against Derek's. His fingers kept playing with the dark hair.  
  
His breathing was a bit ragged both from the kiss and feeling his own body heating up too in response to Derek's impending rut. He could feel that better now that the tension between them maybe began to dissolve from the closeness and kisses. And Stiles accepting this shape of his mate too.  
  
"…this part of you too, my mate..." Stiles finally finished his sentence, slightly glowing amber eyes meeting the red ones from close. After that the human's hands began moving again. This time caressing Derek's chest and flat stomach, going to his sides and down to the hem of his shirt, pushing it up and up to touch the hot skin of said belly nearly in awe. His fingertips followed all the curves and dips of the flexing muscles there as he finally moved his head and found a path down from Derek's temple to his neck, kissing in it hotly. The musky wolf scent was stronger a bit in this form and it flooded Stiles' mind even more, lust slowly spreading from his middle, his bulge growing steadily by then.  
  
He could still feel the pointy ends of the werewolf claws on his neck and his skin pebbled pleasantly from that constant reminder of how dangerous they could be, yet they were careful and harmless because of who he was for this wolf. That thought though caused Stiles to worry the salty flesh with his blunt human teeth for a few moments. Just when his slender fingers brushed down along the happy trail to the edge of the jeans Derek had on, the nice bulge beckoning him. And he did cup and lightly rubbed his palm against it.  
  
"Too many clothes..." he breathed hotly into an elongated ear while his free hand was tugging the shirt upwards.

It was more part of Derek than the other form, this was more natural to him, felt more at ease with it even though it only showed more what he was. It didn't make him stronger in this form, it made him have more weapons with the claws and the fangs. It didn't make him quicker or more agile, it was more the side which showed when he needed to fight, when he meant serious business or when his emotions would get the best of him. Something that wouldn't happen with half a soul, unless of course, there would be a rut. It pulled at him in the same way Stiles pulled at his shirt, it made him want to throw down the human and have his way with him right this very second. Only he didn't.  
  
This was their last time together where he had enough of his wits about him to be gentle, to have this be something he remembered instead of a mindless fuck full of lust and need, lacking the love he could give now. Stiles was always so eager to explore, do things outside of the norm, like this, coaxing Derek out of his protective shell. It wasn't fully consensual, the rut together, he would have picked a week of sleep over harming his mate sexually but this stopped the panic attacks from happening with his mate and seemed as the healthiest choice. The wrongness of it all, that uncomfortable lingering feeling causing the stress between them, it would fade. It was also his worry and discomfort at this new situation which caused his reluctance. And this moment was going to make everything easier, if he let it.  
  
Clever fingers pressed along the half-hard cock, rapidly hardening even more with the attention, with the promise of more. It wasn't just his face which had gotten more hair, the rest of him was defined with dark hairs and he had been a hirsute man to begin with. Long claws caressed along the skin of the neck before he pulled his own shirt off, relieved to have the cooler air of the apartment caress along his heated skin. The muscles were more pronounced, harder, every inch of his body geared for battle. He did the same with the shirt of his mate, getting halfway through less clothes.  
  
"You're going to have to prepare yourself for me," he breathed through his fangs, his voice considerably lower as well. There was no way he could push his claws in to ready the human, not when his beta shift had been allowed to be out like this. Not with the heat of the rut coursing through his body.

"I know and I will. Don't worry about it. I'm trying to be prepared for you at all times," Stiles smirked against Derek's ear then nibbled on its lobe as he let their naked upper-bodies press together for a few moments before he pulled back enough so his hands could work on opening the jeans and pushing them down to Derek's thighs.  
  
His eyes were drinking in the more hairy and (even more) muscular body. Derek was the perfect predator between wolf and human in this form and it amazed Stiles as much as possible. And Stiles didn't lie. Like he was accused of before, he was like a boy scout when it came to having sex with a man. As he hooked a hand into the edge of the opened front of the jeans (lightly rubbing the back of said hand against the base of the freed cock), he pulled Derek towards the mattress like that. No fear whatsoever playing on his features. Only lust and need and curiosity.  
  
Stiles knew that Derek needed some encouragement to believe that his desire was no lie, so on their way to the bed, he grabbed his backpack from a taped up box and tossed it down to the edge of the mattress before going down on his knees in front of Derek. For a moment he turned his attention to rummaging around in the bag then with a triumphant smirk, he tossed the bottle of lube behind him then focused back on the gorgeous erection right in his face.  
  
He didn't hesitate to drag the probably too tight jeans further down and then he growled from the sight. This time, though, there was not much of a foreplay, his tongue darted out to slick up the warm and throbbing rod then he sucked the wide tip between his moist lips, moaning from the musky and salty taste as he looked up past well-defined muscles into Derek's changed face and red eyes.

There won't be a day where Derek won't be worried, he's a brooder, mostly about what had already transpired though, because as it came to plans of action, he'd mostly go with the moment. Doesn't mean he's not a worrier though, he can overthink things, or he did in the past, there's not enough soul left to get into the emotions all that much. But if Stiles claimed that he would keep himself prepared for him, then he was going to take that promise as the truth.  
  
So he shuffled over to the bare mattress, when guided, near impossible to walk normally with his jeans pushed down to his thighs. And to be fair, he was more interested in rubbing his erection against the friction of that hand instead of focusing on where to put his feet. A bottle of lube was on the bed before he could track the movements, his jeans peeled down more to his knees only to be taken into a warm mouth right away. It made him groan loudly in surprise, so much for slow and with finesse. However, instead of pulling on hair to force his cock deep down that wet throat, his fingers caressed through the unruly hair gently, guiding with only a light pressure of the digits. He kept his hips from moving too much while his breathing was speeding up.  
  
In this form, he didn't feel like offering up to bottom, the idea of submitting right now too much to ask. With the rut coming on where he was going to do things he didn't want out of his control, he needed that right now, he needed to have the control and Stiles wasn't pushing the role of dominance this time. He was still guiding, he was still bossy but all focused on Derek's needs.  
  
Deep dark red eyes watched the way the erection slipped past spit-slicked lips, to be taken as deeply as possible, while the human's hand caressed the rest of the remaining shaft.  
  
This was their last time together where Derek still knew what he was doing, but it wasn't going to be as slow as he wanted it to be, there was no way he was capable of that. "I want you to undress for me and I want to watch your fingers sink into yourself."

The fingers and the slight pressure of the tip of the claws in his hair encouraged Stiles to suck a bit deeper and harder on Derek. He fought off the gag reflex when the tip hit the back of his throat and kept going with soft wet sounds. Right until that order. Because it was an order of his alpha. There was no mistaking about it with that alpha undertone in Derek's voice. And it did things to Stiles. First a shiver ran down his naked spine, then came the goose bumps all over his body and the painful throbbing in his jeans.  
  
Derek was rarely this dominant with him, but the submissive side of the kneeling human craved it just as much as being able to take control. Not this time, though. This time he could feel Derek's need to have that so Stiles obeyed. But not before moaning around the thick shaft and sucking on it a couple of more times. Only then did he let it slip out from his lips with a wet pop.  
  
Biting down on his glistening bottom lip, Stiles pulled himself up onto his feet and took the remaining two steps backwards until he felt the mattress hit his heels. He kept his lust-filled eyes on Derek as he kicked his red sneakers off. His hands were slightly shaking from desire and anticipation as he moved them to his belt to work that and his jeans open. To give Derek's dominant side some more satisfaction, he broke the eye-contact and lowered his eyes to somewhere around the other man's collarbones, cheeks flushed and lips moist and red as he released his bottom lip from his teeth.  
  
It wasn't the first time that he was stripping for Derek, but it always gave Stiles some extra kicks to feel his mate's hungry eyes on his pale mole-dotted body. So he made sure to do it slowly and hopefully sensually instead of clumsily. After removing his jeans and socks, he straightened up and hooked his thumbs under the edge of his boxers, pausing for a moment so Derek could enjoy the sight of his tenting underwear a moment longer. Then he let it drop and pool around his ankles, his hard cock finally on full display as he kicked the boxers to the side.  
  
He ran a slender hand down across his toned stomach, fingertips stopping just above the trimmed hair surrounding the base of his cock. "Can I touch myself while I finger my ass open for you?" Stiles whispered hoarsely and sounding more innocent than he really was. As he waited for an answer, he did move to the middle of the mattress with the bottle of lube already in his hand. He laid down onto his back and shamelessly opened his legs for a better view for the wolf in beta form. Stiles' heart was beating faster as he warmed some lube in his hand.

Derek hadn't made one single move when Stiles had situated himself near the bed to strip, instead his red eyes heatedly watched the reveal of the rest of the skin, not missing out on one single strip of bare skin revealed. He stood there without a twitch, his erection drying in the air but not once flagging from its proud stance. Stiles would never be fully graceful, he was like a fawn on too long legs, all long limbs and spastic movements. Even when older, when growing more compact with muscles, with having hair on the chest and a pleasure trail of hairs, he'd still stumble and misjudge movements. It was part of his charm. It made him who he was and the werewolf wouldn't want it any other way.  
  
Licking his lips, his eyes had zeroed in on the other's cock, wanting his own hand wrapped around it, wanting his mouth wrapped around it to suck him dry. "Don't come, I want you to in my mouth when you're open enough." He wanted to lean into the spread legs, crawl there to feast on everything offered. Lick the hairs flat, open up that tight hole with his tongue. Maybe later, when they were done and sated, and he'd not be in beta shift. He could bury his face in between those tight cheeks and suck his own come right out of him. The dirty thoughts most likely displayed on his face with the filthy grin breaking out as he heatedly waited for Stiles to prepare himself.  
  
While the human warmed the lube, he kicked off his own shoes by toeing out of them, pushing the jeans down all the way so he could be fully naked as well. Legs spread, he stood at the edge of the mattress, hand wrapped around his own erection, used to handling his flesh with claws out so he didn't even glance down to what he was doing, eyes not once leaving Stiles.  
  
The tugs were slow and lazy, not to get himself off but to enjoy the way his mate was about to get himself ready for that erection in his hand.

"Y-yes, sir..." Stiles rasped out not even thinking. The hot picture Derek painted him caused a shiver to raise more goose bumps on his bare skin and his cock to throb as it was lying flat and hard against his stomach. The tip of his tongue flicked out for a second to wet his bow-shaped upper-lip, his face showing concentration as his wet fingers moved behind his balls and smeared a generous amount of lube on and around his hole. His eyes rolled back on a moan from the contact, the tight pucker contracting in anticipation, but Stiles didn't waste any more time. His fingertips kept rubbing the wrinkled skin steadily, causing himself to gasp and moan, face flushing more from the feeling and knowing that Derek was watching him.  
  
It also somehow made Stiles move more wantonly. He peeked up at Derek from behind his long eye-lashes just when he began pushing in his middle-finger, hips coming alive to meet the intruding digit. In time with this his other hand provided some additional show to his 'stalker' with rubbing and pinching a nipple. It coaxed a louder moan from Stiles and for his cock to visibly jump and leak, and his ass to contract around that finger.  
  
Yes, it was a tease for both of them, but he didn't care. It felt so good, so decadent to do this in front of a hungry beta shifted wolf. He knew he'd find Derek hot like this, but that not veiled pure hunger in his red eyes only added to the human's desires. After a hard twist of said nipple and another lustful moan, that hand slid down on the milky white skin just to carefully wrap around his own cock, smearing the pre-cum down along its length with slow and lazy movements. Essentially copying Derek's moves on that massive hardness.  
  
It distracted Stiles enough to begin working his second finger inside too, the familiar burn and stretch quickly turning into pleasure and a need to get more inside. So soon – careful not to accidentally come before it was time – he was shamelessly riding not two but three lubed up fingers while watching Derek, heart racing in his chest.

Red eyes flared as he was called ‘sir’, but his attention was on where the fingers were, where he was going to bury himself in very soon. The rest of the teases were registered, the way the nipples were hard, the thick cock leaking pre-cum in a show of invitation. The scent of arousal was heavy in the air, coming from him but also Stiles, mingling together in the air. Time had no meaning, he focused on breathing in and out, feeling like that's all he could do when he wanted to move to his mate.  
  
Mouth slightly opened with the fangs on display, the hulking mass of the werewolf watched as the human prepared himself. One, two, three fingers. He knew from experience how the tightness would feel around those digits, the way those walls would give way with coaxing to let in something bigger. To open up for more. Not sure how he was capable of waiting, he didn't once look away, waiting for the right moment to pounce. He could see it in those little hitches in the human's breath, the way the muscles would spasm and the erection was leaking more. Stiles was so into it that he was ready to burst in no time.  
  
And pounce Derek did. In one fluent movement he crawled over to his mate, batting away the hand wrapped around the erection with a glance up to Stiles' face. "My turn," the voice growled, teeth a sharp dangerous promise. They weren't what Stiles felt though when the Hale took in the erection, they didn't even graze the sensitive flesh. It was only a hot wet mouth wrapped around the turgid length, taking him in all the way all at once. And then, Derek swallowed. Deep-throating it all until he gagged, only to suck more and more.  
  
His turn, and he wasn't going to stop until he'd get what he wanted. For Stiles to come and paint his throat.

If his heart was beating faster before, the second Derek finally moved... no, pounced on him, it went haywire, beating like crazy in his rib cage. He wanted to say something clever, but all he had time for was a shocked expression (from the closeness of the sharp fangs) and right after that a huge groan. He didn't expect Derek to deep-throat him like this and didn't even know how he managed to do so without injuring him on the sharp teeth, but somehow he did it and that's all that mattered to Stiles because Derek was wrecking him so fast!  
  
The familiar tension was building steadily at the base of his spine and the human curled his fingers to finally brush them against his prostate. A wave of violent joy stabbed him in the guts and he arched his back, head digging into the mattress and cock squirting some clear prostate fluid down the wolf's throat. Stiles' body was trembling from the mini-orgasm caused by milking his own prostate, but knew that the main act was coming just as fast.  
  
Since his free hand couldn't fist around the bare mattress, he instead did that in the other man's thick hair. He didn't dare to buck with his hips, not wanting for his cock to be accidentally bitten off, but it was torture. Luckily, it didn't take long for Derek to push him to the brink.  
  
"I'm gonna... Please, sir! Let me... come down your... throat!" he whined on a desperate voice, breaths coming out in pants while his head started to get dizzy, his magic sizzling up in his veins as his control was slipping.

If he pulled off the cock, Derek knew it was a risk to get his mouth around it again without injuring it so as much as he wanted to command for Stiles to come with his voice, he only sucked harder, glancing up to his mate. Telling him with a look to give into it, to give him what he wanted. Which, admittedly, didn't even take seconds longer, one more hum around the erection and it spurted. Derek swallowed it all, barely tasting it with how deep the cock was within his mouth but it didn't matter, he felt the slick offering slip down his throat and as he pulled away very carefully, he tasted the salty seed as it stained his tongue.  
  
Coming down on Derek's throat like this was even more exciting to Stiles because of the slight dangerous vibe he could feel around the wolf's aura in this form. Though he knew that until Derek had his control, he wouldn't hurt him even like this. That reminded Stiles that during the rut this was going to be much more different, but this is why he wanted to have sex with Derek in this form. So Stiles could read and learn his mate's reactions, how he'd look, how the touch of the claws on his skin and the sight of the sharp fangs would feel to him. The longer he watched his mate like this, the more the familiarity and acceptance in Stiles was growing, making it easier being this intimate with his alpha like this.  
  
Just when his mind wanted to wander about how much different it was going to be soon with a nearly feral alpha, his eyes met the red ones, the sizzling of his magic tuning out all other sounds and the white hot orgasm burned away all thoughts too. He cried out loud and then was just floating on pleasure, body lax and relaxed under the muscular werewolf.  
  
With the human completely relaxed from the bliss of his orgasm, Derek pulled at the fingers to remove them from the gaping hole by wrapping his fingers around the wrist to avoid getting his claws where they shouldn't be. It would end this very quickly if he ended up accidentally gauging the pale skin. He had to be fast, Stiles would never be relaxed for long, before his brain would kick in and his body followed the constant activity of the ADHD mind.  
  
Settling between the parted legs, the Hale took a moment to push inside, unable to use his hand like this to guide, waiting for the tip of his cock to catch on the gaping rim. He bottomed out in one push, impaling the tightness until he couldn't plunge in anymore, pausing there. The waiting wasn't on Stiles to adjust, but for him to get over the orgasm so Derek would have his full attention.

In those sweet numbing moments Stiles would've allowed for Derek to do anything and everything to him. That's why he didn't protest at all when his fingers were removed from his still clamping ass and something bigger was pushed soon in. The young druid gasped and his eyes rolled shut. His already fried nerves were overrun by a wave of that sweet pain that registered nearly immediately as pleasure in his mind.  
  
Derek was fully buried in him. Finally!  
  
He forced his eyes to open, the sensation of being stretched and filled making him pant with satisfaction. His irises were glowing in amber when they met the red ones and he found himself reaching up to grab onto the firm muscles, but they only became caresses because his coordination was still shot from the orgasm.  
  
Yet... his body already seemed to want more. His Spark as well it seemed, because it made its presence known not just in Stiles' eyes, but in the warm rush of magic along Derek's skin the second his hands touched him.  
  
"Fuck me... I'm yours. Yours to take as you wish..."

The magic was in full play now, and it was needed so they'd be more settled, it was always part of everything with them from now on. So when Derek felt the warm electricity flaming along his skin where Stiles' hands gripped him, he already knew before the words rushed out of that clever mouth, that he could move, that he had all of the attention he wanted to have.  
  
"Mine," Derek agreed with a sharp thrust, and he would have nipped at skin with his teeth if he hadn't been in beta shift for the human making demands when he wasn't in the position to make them at all right now. Derek was letting him know with his thrusts, shifting each time he was all the way in so he would find the right angle to pummel against the no doubt sensitive prostate. "I'm going to fuck you until you're hard again. And you don't have a choice about it, you're going to get hard. For me."  
  
Derek was determined to have the stamina required to fuck another orgasm out of his mate, with how sensitive he was and he couldn't exactly back out of his promise right now. With a low growl, he pushed his way inside, eyes kept a lock with the swirling amber ones while the magic was building.

Stiles realized his 'mistake,' but didn't complain at all from the 'punishing' hard thrusts. They were just on the pleasurable side of painful because of how sensitive his prostate was from the recent orgasm that was still pulsing through him. And yet he was already being fucked towards a new one, Derek's dominant words making him moan and sending shivers down his spine as his spent and sensitive cock tried to come alive again. It was the kind of pain he secretly loved and excited him. His whole body was at the mercy of the werewolf's hammering thrusts. Shaking, clamping down on him, being used in the most wrecking ways.  
  
"Yes! Yes, sir! I will... Promise!" he managed to utter hoarsely, glowing eyes breaking the eye-contact to look away in submission. They quickly zeroed in on between them, watching the hard glistening cock pumping into him mercilessly. It already felt amazing but seeing it too only added to the sensation, making the magic crawl on his skin, jumping over Derek's. He could feel the slightly burning and tingling tendrils of the tattoo on his back spreading forward over his shoulders and sides. They would soon crawl and sink into Derek's flesh and Stiles was curious if it was going to feel any different for him in beta form.  
  
The human pulled his legs further up and hooked them around Derek's lower-back, giving him better access and the perfect angle to pound his stretched ass. His moans and groans immediately became louder and needier, the wide tip's nearly constantly brushing against his love spot, causing Stiles to squirm and occasionally whine low in his throat. The perfect mixture of pleasure and pain, which was slowly causing his cock to get towards half-hard.  
  
"Will you knot me... breed me, sir? Give me... all your precious wolf-cum?" he asked looking at Derek just when his nails scratched along the muscular back, his ass clasping down on the thick cock from the idea.

Derek didn't want anything more than to let the knot grow, expand into the tight channel to breed him full, but he knew he couldn't. The rest of the week Stiles was going to have nothing but knot, and there was only so much a human ass could take. "No." It was growled out in huffs, not once faltering in the punishing rhythm he had set up for them, feeling how much Stiles was loving it. "You'll soon have it so often you'll avoid bottoming for a month."  
  
With a little wriggle, Derek adjusted his angle again so his erection slid right along the prostate, it would only be a teasing pressure on the sensitive nub of flesh, something to drive Stiles mad with wanting more. Because he knew how to draw out another orgasm, by making Stiles work for it, make him chase after it instead of lying there and taking it. He wanted to bite and suck on skin but reminded himself he couldn't, didn't allow the control to fade not even once. It was going to be different in a few days, when he was deep in rut, it was going to be a sharp contrast to what they were doing now.  
  
The magic was crawling along his mate's skin, inching to where his arms were, eager to jump bodies because it knew Derek was as much as a welcome host as the druid was. He could smell it in the air, joining the scent of sex. Gripping his human's leg, he pushed it higher as his hips and ass muscles flexed, speeding it up. Once that magic current would reach his skin, it was going to work on drawing his orgasm out of him and he wanted to hammer those moans out of Stiles before that rush.

 _No_. The word echoed in Stiles' mind, which needed a moment to understand the meaning of it. It was a denial, but even so, it coaxed a surge of magic in him and it pooled in his groin like molten lava just when Derek began teasing his prostate. Suddenly he was painfully hard from both, the too fast and too hard tearing a desperate yell out of him. His nails broke skin and a spasm went through his body, forcing him to writhe and slam himself upwards as much as his position allowed. His hips got on with the program and Stiles began chasing that blinding sensation with meeting Derek's thrusts, the sounds of slapping together wet flesh echoing loudly in the empty apartment.  
  
A part of him mourned the loss of not being knotted now (something that apparently became one of his favorite things in having sex with Derek), but he also understood the reasoning of the werewolf above him so he let it go. And the second he did that, his dry lips parted on a silent gasp, his magic deciding to surge forward and wash over both of them in recurring waves, building, building their orgasm until Stiles was yelling, cursing, panting and shaking. With over-flushed and sweaty cheeks, his brightly glowing amber eyes found the alpha's, the magic swirling in and around them as their souls once again melted together through their thickening mate bond.

Stiles was going to thank him some day when this was all over, that he at least had the control over the knot instead of it popping each time they had sex. It wasn't made for humans to constantly be impaled by it, and it required as much preparation as fisting would need. Something Stiles consistently refused because he had been too impatient and eager. At least right now he accepted the no. It was for his own good because Derek would much rather not hold back either.  
  
The teasing had worked, the human moved like someone possessed, chasing after what he knew only Derek could give him, meeting the rough slaps with desperate bucks. Low grunts were punched out of the wolf's mouth, sweat gathered from the intense work out their bodies were getting. It felt like they were running from the wave coming after them, the magic hot in pursuit until it was unstoppable, rushing into the Hale in a warm flood of too much of everything. Throwing his head back in a soundless howl, he welcomed the warmth as it made everything else forgotten. Their souls met, the tightly wound bonds wrapped around the halved soul festering there lit up, fueling the aching to be once again whole, filled up with all Stiles.  
  
"Derek!" he cried out hoarsely, nails reopening the healed skin of the warm back and then his body and magic felt like exploding, losing all control, coming hard and loud and blinded and dizzy for the beast above him. It was perfect.

"Yes, come for me, Stiles....." It wasn't a command anymore, it was a breathless plea to let go so he could do the same, coming inside the contracting hole with a choked up growl, flooding him nevertheless, though not as much as it would with the knot.  
  
The Hale was a shivering mess on top of the human, breathing coming in gasps, wounds on his back healing so only streaks of red blood remained. He was also fully human again, too relaxed to be in beta shift. God, it felt like each time was going to be more intense than the previous and some day they were going to explode.

The trembling human gasped when he felt Derek flooding him. It was a feeling he'd never get bored of. Or watching the pleasure on his mate's face. At that point he forced his eyes to open half-way to see how that pleasure looked in his beta form. He found him just as beautiful. He watched Derek's transformation back into the human form in silence since he was trying to get enough oxygen into his bloodstream and still dizzy mind.  
  
The pale arms tightened around the sweaty man, keeping him close and inside his pulsing ass. The magic was calmer, more balanced again as the waves slowed down, now only licking against them like a calm sea at the shore. Stiles sighed satisfied both from that and the mind-blowing sex they just had.  
  
"See? I knew this would help. You are... gorgeous," he whispered hoarsely, moving one hand to caress along Derek's spine up and down, soothing and grounding his wolf. "Did the magic feel anything different in beta?" he asked curiously while readjusting the hold of his trembling legs around Derek to avoid a cramp in his thigh. The movement reminded him how good having him inside felt and he purred softly from that.  
  
Their souls were still connected and with his mind's eye the druid could kinda see it too. Knowing that his own soul and magic were protecting the remaining soul his mate had always gave Stiles a kind of deep satisfaction. Not because if one of them died, the other would probably follow. No, it was because all he wanted to do was to protect his incomplete mate. And help him become whole one day. First they just had to get through the rut...

For a moment Derek didn't answer, too busy breathing in and out while Stiles clenched around the softening cock to keep him inside. It's why he didn't dare to move – he'd slip right out of the wet hole with even a readjustment of his foot. "No, I don't feel anything different in this form, only the evolved one." It was just as intense as it had been, especially now because they were still connected.  
  
It seemed his soul needed some extra solidifying and he knew the connection would break as soon as their bodies would stop being entwined. At least the tension between them had disappeared, it wasn't tearing at them and that eased some of the tension of the rut which was not as immediate at the moment but there was no escaping it. It's been around the same date for years, a few days give or take.  
  
Giving it a moment, the Hale slowly slipped out so the connection would fade as well, the semen trickling into the bare mattress, so they might as well not take it with. Unless they wanted a crusted one. Werewolves were going to smell the evidence of their lovemaking each time they'd move on this particular bed.

"Huh... good to know..." Stiles hummed. Maybe in the future they could see how much different Derek feels his magic in full wolf form... For now Stiles just grunted with a little disapproval when the connection was broken between their bodies and thus their souls too. But he let it fade along with pulling his magic back. He was glad too that the tension seemed to be gone from between them and when he focused, he could also sense that the balance was back in every meaning – despite the impending rut that could be faintly felt. Less than before at least.

"We should move soon." He didn't want to but they had lost a few hours of time, which had been needed, but they had to make sure they were home in time to get the van empty and returned before everything started. And groceries, they had to get food for the week as well.

"Yeah... yeah, we should leave just... give me a moment or two to catch my breath and clean up..." the human sighed, his heartbeat finally getting back to more or less normal. "Lucky for you, I won't waste more time with a shower so you can be all smug and happy about smelling yourself all over me..." he chuckled low and with fond eyes watched Derek climb off him. He shamelessly drank in the sight of his naked man, unable to stop grinning.  
  
Then Stiles forced himself to get up too, fishing out some tissues from his bag and tossing a few to Derek before he more or less cleaned himself up. "Oh... I guess we could leave the mattress here? Unless you want this mattress to bear witness to our lovemaking for eternity for anyone who gets near it," he chuckled and scrunched his nose up. Frankly, Stiles didn't know what Derek would prefer and he could roll with either option since a) he didn't have an advanced nose (although lately he'd noticed that he smelled things stronger), and b) he didn't mind if others knew they had a healthy sexual life. They were mates after all...

The plan had been to get in his clothes and not bother with cleaning up. Derek did enjoy the scent of the two of them surrounding them and he didn't care about the old semen and fluids from Stiles covering him. But since the tissues were tossed at him so pointedly, he wiped himself clean, removing the sticky substance from his stomach as well. Without a shower, they'd still reek of another and that was fine with him. It might even help to wallow in it on the way home.

"Yeah, I don't want you to shower." The possessiveness was going to grow, Derek wasn't going to let him shower when conscious. Though if Stiles would decide to clean up when Derek was out cold, the wolf might enjoy marking him all the way up again.  
  
Tossing the tissues into the trash, Derek hopped into his clothes, feeling a lot better but not cooler. He'd rather not wear anything at all but that was probably not smart in the open, not to mention public, roads. "We can get a new mattress, this one is ruined for all future werewolf noses." And he didn't like the idea of his daughter rolling around in the scent of their semen, nope. That thought alone was more effective than a cold shower. "I don't mind others smelling it. I don't want my daughter to smell like our sex life." Saying it like that resulted in him making a face as if he was tasting something very disgusting. Yuck.

Stiles raised a brow from the possessive statement but it also put a wide grin on his face. He (not so secretly) loved such comments from Derek and expected more to come in the following days and during the rut too – if Derek was going to be able to string together more than a few words. He also knew how much the werewolf liked his scent on him. An obvious sign of Stiles belonging to him. And that was hot in the emissary's mind.  
  
"Alright, fair enough. Ew, that's a picture I don't want to see in real life," he shuddered. "The mattress will stay, it's decided," he shrugged and quickly got into his clothes too. It was strange not carrying his gun since he had to give that back on his last day at the police department. Of course the paperwork was going to take some time to get through and his father just started talking with the county to work something out for Stiles at the station. Still, he felt a bit naked without his gun, even if he had his magic and a protective werewolf mate now. He was going to have to get a legal gun from Chris or get one from his dad's collection, but that wasn't priority now.  
  
"I'll go get the boxes if you get the last things together. And please don't make it into a big thing that you want to help. You have to sit on your abused ass for a few hours so better be kind to it." It was a great reason but honestly more of an excuse. The Hale would get things done way quicker without the human slowing him down since there were a lot of stairs to cover. Humans and their lack of elevators. Grabbing arms full of boxes, he set to work to get them downstairs in the van, glad it was during the day so most people worked and he could have more boxes than was humanly possible.  
  
Reason number three: he didn't want Stiles to help. He could already imagine him with a couple of boxes stacked, taking a misstep and topple all the way down.

With a huff, Stiles let Derek have his way with the boxes, seeing through him quite easily – especially right after a successful mating. Instead of wasting more time on arguing with him, Stiles moved to pack up the last remaining items he wanted to take with him.  
  
It took only a couple of rounds with the Hale's wolf strength to get everything down to the van and then Stiles just stood in the door for a long minute to drink in the sight of the mostly empty flat. Another chapter of his life was done, but this time he didn't mind, because what the future held with Derek was something he was going to jump in head first. Well, actually he already did. With that thought he locked up the apartment and (with some discomfort in his bottom area) walked downstairs to give his key to the landlord. Then he drove off with the van, never looking back. He was going _home_.


	2. 8: Heat and Fire - part 2

**8: Heat and Fire – Part 2**

The unpacking of the van hadn't been interrupted, it had all been safely stowed away near the elevator on the ground floor of the loft building. The rental had been safely returned and even the next day Derek’s rut hadn't made its appearance yet, though the symptoms intensified. Words were becoming less and less as he resorted back to his eyebrows and his grunts, a restlessness building under his skin which left him pacing the floor without being able to concentrate on anything for very long. His body was heating up, as well as his temper but they struggled through it without too many fights. Stiles seemed to realize that it was best to leave Derek to it, prodding him into eating and drinking but otherwise not demanding anything. The Hale was like a caged wolf prowling.  
  
The day after that they did have sex a few times, but he had some of his wits about him. Some, because he had stopped wearing clothes – they made his skin itch and felt uncomfortable. Wrong. He was sweating too much for it and even simple shorts felt like wearing sandpaper. Derek isolated himself a lot, settling in a corner, watching Stiles with a predatory gaze in the green eyes. The time to himself was needed to give into the rut, clear his mind and let his bodily needs wash over him. But it wasn't a fluent change, it came and went, moments of lucidity combined with his hand on his dick to get himself off, growling at his mate to stay back for now. "Leave me be." The demand had been in a low alpha voice, only for Derek to apologize an hour later for pushing Stiles away.  
  
It was in the middle of the night when it came on. Restless tossing at first while he burned like a furnace. Pillow and sheets had been pushed to the floor because they hurt on his skin. He woke up with this incredible _need_ , his cock a hard throbbing instrument between his legs because he had been humping the mattress for a while now. Red eyes searched the bed, coming to rest on where his mate was, smelling like lubrication and sex already. Like _his_.  
  
The alpha moved over to the human, sniffing him, smelling the joined semen on the skin, the sweat, the invitation there. He grabbed a leg to push them open, not even checking if his lover was awake or not. He was there and he was his. Only there was something blocking the entrance, something was already there, smelling like rubber and... difficulty. Enraged, he pushed at the body, as if saying: _Do something. Now_.

Being around an alpha wolf who was about to go into heat wasn't the easiest thing in the world. That Stiles had learned fast even with all the talks and preparations done previously. But he stayed focused on the task. Yes, he saw it as a task to help his mate. He'd do probably anything for Derek at this point and knowing (and feeling) that he was so restless and tense and not being able to help him yet was a bitter pill to swallow. Still, the young man did everything he could to make this easier for his mate. He didn't get offended when he was ordered to stay away. He tried to act normal while the hungry wolf-eyes burned holes into him. He ignored that and tried to focus on learning more useful healing spells, stocking up on the balms and making some more just to be safe. Making sure they had plenty of food for the week and checking in with his dad and Beth who was looked after by their amazing baby sitting team.  
  
They had to isolate themselves and Stiles made sure to put his magic in good use with lining every window and door with mountain ash and newly learned wards. He checked on them in every few hours, strengthening his belief and magic in them to make sure they would hold. No supernatural being would be able to get in or out, he made sure of it.  
  
In preparation the couch from the living area (where the bed was too for now) was replaced near the bathroom for two reasons. One, to be out of Derek's sight when Stiles was going to have to get some undisturbed sleep and healing time; and two, to be close to the bathroom where his stock of balms, potions and brews were that would help his human body heal faster. After all, while Derek was in rut, he couldn't borrow his healing. They had to wait for that once this was over. Stiles hoped he wasn't going to have to borrow too much, because that would definitely not sit well with Derek and he'd blame himself.  
  
Either way, the human used the time while he was being just stalked by the wolf to practice his control over the magic in him, because he was sure that he was going to have to use it in case Derek would get too violent with him. And that was a valid chance. But despite that, Stiles wasn't scared of his mate, he kept his cool with the help of his mantras and also the thought that he was helping Derek. That he loved Derek. That usually did the trick, even when his mate was getting worse.  
  
Stiles could feel it pulling on their bond so listening to that and his intuition that night before going to bed, he locked himself in the bathroom and made sure to clean and prepare himself, adding the biggest butt plug too to keep himself open when the time came.  
  
Apparently that toy was something the wolf didn't like. Stiles' mind quickly woke up from that push against him, adrenaline starting to pump into his blood stream as his heart sped up. This was it...  
  
"Alright, alright, I get it..." he grumbled and removed the toy, tossing it aside to make the way free. He glimpsed over his naked shoulder. The feral hunger on the alpha's face and red eyes sent a shiver down his spine and lust stabbed him in the guts. He couldn't help it. No matter how dangerous this could get, he found Derek hot like this. Maybe there really was something very wrong with him in the head... Either way, Stiles braced himself both mentally and physically and relaxed his ass as much as possible.

Had he been in his right mind, that speeding up of the heart would have made Derek pause because even in his feral state, he associated it with fear. Only right now that meant Stiles was prey to him, something he could devour if he wanted to and clearly his mate wanted him to because besides the rabbit heart, he smelled like lust as he removed the plug from his body, baring himself for the taking.  
  
There were no fingers checking to see if Stiles was wide enough, prepared enough. Even if there hadn't been lube or a plug to prepare, he'd still be taken. Ruts usually weren't so violent, usually he wouldn't have been so deeply lost in the lust that he'd forget his surroundings. Hell ruined that with using ruts to torture him, having half a soul ruined that because it was harder to keep control over himself. When emotions became muted, not even the anchor he loved so much was enough to be able to cling to it, not when the heat pulled at him. Probably why Deaton had suggested it this way, to help Derek gain some normalcy with it so the next year it wouldn't be something to dread anymore.  
  
The alpha pushed forward, mindlessly stabbing at Stiles with his erection to find his hole until his cock grabbed at the edge of the pucker. Target found. With the body settled on the knees, he grabbed slender hips to hoist up so he could bear down, filling Stiles up all the way with a sharp thrust. His whole body was a furnace of heat, sweat-soaked and unnatural, a human would have had seizures from such a high temperature. There was no respite once he was fully inside, the tight wetness only intensified his hunger so he started the brutal rhythm from a few days ago. There was only one goal on his mind: to knot and fill his mate up, to breed him as ruts were intended.  
  
It didn't take long at all for him to start developing a knot but instead of waiting for it to fill up inside Stiles, he fucked him until his knot prevented him from moving away from him, whining when the pressure hurt because he was stuck, unable to get away, a load of cum shooting forth inside the tightness. It didn't do anything to calm the heat down, he only wanted more and more.

Stiles was preparing himself for this. For this feral frenzy. To the lack of tenderness and care. To the instincts to take over. So he wasn't surprised when the hard cock simply rammed into him. Yet it didn't mean that he didn't cry out and curled his hands into fists around the edge of the pillow he pulled under his head. Ass high up in the air, face pressed in said pillow.  
  
It was rough and hard from the start on and he didn't hold back the loud sounds that it coaxed out of him. It was more intense than anything they did before and he was glad that he had prepared himself for the taking, because this was just... nearly too much. Lucky for him, his mind and body could endure and transform pain into pleasure fairly quickly. So the feral trusts helped his cock to become hard quickly from the merciless and mindless pounding of his alpha.  
  
Because that's what Derek was at that point. His alpha, not that much of his mate. He was too gone in the rut for that. The human's mouth opened on loud groans and yells, but he took it all. Pushed his mind and body over the limits to accommodate the nearly feral wolf in him. To help on himself, he forced one of his hands to let the edge of the pillow go and wrap around his painfully hard cock. A result of the relentless attack against his prostate in that position.  
  
His whole body was burning up, a light sheen of sweat quickly covering his glowing skin. It was insane. A rush. A fire nothing could compare to as his pair was rutting away in his abused hole. He screamed with pleasure only when the knot was pushed into him and they were locked together with a blinding pain. He felt grateful that Derek seemed to feel the same way and slowed down.  
  
He was filling him up and up and up, coating his insides with the watery wolf cum. Stiles' hand was forced by himself to move slowly on him, not daring to come yet. Not knowing if it'd be enough for Derek once the knot went down and it was easier for him to keep himself in a constant state of arousal than coming and suffering the consequences. So he stroked himself only when he felt he needed it to help him through what was going on.  
  
Surprisingly his magic didn't kick too much in, only making his skin glow.

It was a horrifying fact that Derek hadn't consented to them doing it like this, he had folded to keep his mate from mental harm when Stiles had insisted on doing it. But now that they were deep in rut, it became more and more a violent mindless fuck, there was no love nor care. The alpha harmed the human's body, as he had predicted he would since nothing can prepare for this. The only upside was, that he'd hopefully not remember what he did to the one he loved or he'd be consumed by guilt. This mindless beast wasn't like him. Never would he allow himself to be like that if he had anything to say about it. It was why he'd make a terrible dom in any form of BDSM scene, his limit to hurt his mate was easily reached, easier than Stiles himself probably even liked.  
  
There were no limits now. No words of comfort, no soft laughs huffed against the pale skin as they waited out the knotting. The magic didn't caress the wolf's body, it stayed far away from him, it wasn't interested in mindless sex. Derek waited with an aggressiveness to him, even when pressed against his mate, muscles strained and tight. And as soon as the knot went down, he went back to moving, his erection not once softening. At least the jackrabbit pace of the thrusts had slowed down slightly but not much, it was still a punishing pace, going as deep as possible with slick sounds as he fucked his own cum right out of the abused entrance.  
  
It created wet slapping sounds, the human's pained grunts not slowing him down, weren't going to slow him down for a while unless Stiles would stop him. It was a relentless force, a constant of knotting and fucking, the only pauses came when they were tied by the knot, a pause of about 15 minutes before Derek was moving again, as if the orgasms didn't do anything but fuel him on to breed more.

After the first round Stiles' mouth was already dry like the desert, voice hoarse from all the panting and yelling. Although the loft was situated in the more deserted industrial part of town with not many living around, he blessed his own mind for adding a rune to the protection that would muffle their sounds. After all, even if his dad knew not to disturb them during this week (and oh boy, how many details Stiles had omitted when reassuring that he was going to be fine with Derek during his rut!), it wouldn't be lucky for the police to show up and interrupt them. Stiles didn't even want to think about the consequences. A feral in-rut wolf running around Beacon Hills was probably not a good way for Derek to wash off the "resident criminal" title the people seemed to have associated him with (yeah, that was partly Scott's fault). He was sure that if someone had heard them, they would think someone was being murdered. Even Stiles got surprised what kind of sounds the alpha was coaxing out of him.  
  
During the second round his muscles started trembling and he ignored the excessive wetness between his legs and under him. He'd found and bought quite a few sheets that had a rubber underside so they wouldn't have to throw the mattress out later. He wondered how long they would last with werewolf claws. He occupied his mind with such thoughts and focused on his breathing while Derek was filling him up for the second time, locked together once more.  
  
Frankly, Stiles had thought (hoped?) that the orgasms would start to tire Derek out, but that didn't seem to be the case (aside from the pace slowing somewhat). They just urged him on, the cock never softening in him. But for now he was taking it, breathing through the slowly growing pains not just in his ass but in his muscles too. At least he was still hard, hand slick with the prostrate fluid Derek literally fucked out of him. But it was getting painful and he knew he couldn't keep himself on the edge for long. Soon he'd have to come and Stiles knew that it'd mean that he'll have to stop the wolf then because it'd get too sensitive and painful for him to bear another knotting. So he concentrated on the wolf and himself, knowing that timing was key this time.  
  
Derek was right. Although to some point the druid was enjoying this frantic and chaotic situation, it was nothing like when Derek was himself. The bonds were still between them, yes. Through that Stiles' body felt the need to rut and come too. He could feel the seemingly insatiable fire burning his mate from the inside out. It was like wildfire, destroying everything in its path to reach its goal. And that goal was days away. That thought nearly made Stiles panic, but he pushed that down. He was helping Derek. And he was going to stop him soon. At least he didn't try to scratch or bite him yet – probably too lost in the rut and focusing mainly on the hole he could rut in.  
  
Because that's all Stiles was for him now. He could feel it and he knew it was just the rut, but that thought left a slight bitter taste in the human's mouth and made Derek feel so distant. It was nearly as if a stranger was using his body, not his mate. That was probably the reason why his magic wasn't connecting. Why it felt nearly... defensive. As if ready to step in to protect its main host. And the young mage had no doubt it is going to do exactly that, if necessary.

There had been two times where Derek had knotted, but he couldn't keep track of anything anymore. Not of the hoarse screams, not of the way his mate's emotions changed, not of anything but the need to get off. Often he had spent his ruts alone, by himself, away from people but they had never been as intense before Hell. Uncomfortable to be alone during them, because a fist or a dildo wasn't the same as the real thing, and even though he had enough control not to be a danger to anybody, he had never wanted to share them. It required trust, something only a few had in the past. Very few. The years in Beacon Hills nobody had known he even had them, he so often disappeared for days or weeks so it wasn't noticed he would do that in January. They had chalked it up to him avoiding Holidays and that had been fine by him. It was too personal to share.  
  
Right now he was in beta shift, matching the violence he felt. His mind wasn't in the now, it remembered all the times in Hell where he had been chained up, left to suffer, left to rot. The only comfort had been the fact that nobody had taken advantage of him in his severely needy state, no, he had been pointedly ignored so he couldn't even beg for a fuck. The ruts had been magically induced, in a way that had made them too intense. And this, right now, this was the result of years of abuse.  
  
It was a miserable start for them both, nothing helped to chase away the heat. It felt like if he were to exhale loudly, fire would erupt from his mouth as if he had turned into a dragon; like if he glared too hard, lasers were going to shoot from his eyes, that's what it felt like to be boiling with need. Deep down he knew he didn't want to burn his partner, deep down the sense of love was still there, buried under all that fire. With a snarl, another knot popped, it was painful for them both in this rapid succession. There was nothing pleasant about the way his strained cock shot off another round of semen in the abraded hole, it might as well have been lava, because that's how it felt.  
  
Growling, the beta shift had receded as he panted, waiting for them to not be connected together. Everything was soaked with his semen, drowning out all other scents.

Derek was in such a need that it translated more to pain to Stiles. He could feel it. It bled through more and more in the connection between them. Even with closed eyes he could see glimpses of the love he knew Derek had for him, but that hot mass of _need_ overflowed it too much. It broke Stiles' heart to feel Derek like this. To understand more just what he had to endure. He saw flashes of his memories. Pictures of his torture in Hell. This... this was nothing compared to that. Derek had endured so, so much worse than what Stiles was doing for him and he cursed himself for the weakness of his body. Even with the potions he drank before bed to help his muscles relax and heal faster. He wanted to help more, but he couldn't... He just couldn't give more...  
  
He came with Derek this time. No pleasure found there aside from a flicker of it. It was more painful on both ends. His breathing was shallow, body glistening from sweat and cum and face flushed and wet from tears. He wasn't crying because of himself. He was crying for what he saw and felt from Derek.  
  
Stiles was grateful for the opportunity to catch his breath, silent tears wetting the pillow under his head. The idea of another round made him unwittingly clench around Derek, making him gasp from the sharp pain. He ignored the warning growl and focused on his breathing not to let it get shallower. He had to be stronger. If not physically then mentally. He couldn't give in to the building panic. But he cannot take another round. His ass was already burning up. Blinking his eyes open, he realized that it's been hours already. And although Derek probably didn't feel like that about himself, they both needed a few hours long break. Stiles definitely did.  
  
So when the knot finally slipped free, Stiles' trembling body pushed against the heavy (and fucking hot) one. Of course, he got a disapproving growl, but he didn't give up just kept squirming out from under Derek. Unsurprisingly, he was roughly pulled back by his waist, claws scratching the top layer of his skin.  
  
"No, Derek. We need a break. No clawing," he said, not really thinking that the alpha would understand. He too said it before that he probably wouldn't understand why his mate would want to refuse him. Obviously that didn't sit well with the in-heat wolf and Stiles had to use more force. "Please don't make me do this..." he whispered more to himself when he found himself pinned against the mattress again. But clearly he had no choice because Derek wouldn't stop. So ignoring the sharp short stabs of pain in his ass or the big amount of semen rushing out of him from the moving around, he somehow managed to turn on his back and his right hand shot up to slap against the snarling wolf's forehead. Stiles' teary and glowing eyes snapped shut as he visualized the sleep rune in his mind and uttered the word to activate it.  
  
The next moment his magic was too eager to help 'remove the threat' and it shot out through his glowing palm, essentially knocking Derek out cold. "Shit..." Stiles mumbled, lifting his head to check on him. He was fine. Just sleeping. "Fuck..." The emissary's head dropped back on the bed and he let his breathing even out. He knew he didn't have the luxury to fall asleep right on the spot and his mind and body were reeling too much for that anyway. But he gave himself a few minutes, hoping that the spell will work on Derek for a couple of hours so he could rest and heal up too. Though that required him to get up, drink some water, clean up, apply the balms, drink more healing potions and curl up on the couch.  
  
It was going to be a long (and lonely) week. He understood that now as he forced himself up and dropped a mountain ash circle around the bed to do the aftercare himself.

***

For hours the downed wolf didn't stir, perhaps the magic sensing Stiles needed time to himself without having to deal with Derek. He remained where he had been dropped on the bed, the only indication he was even still alive was the constant rise and fall of his chest while the rest of him didn't even twitch once. It was a heavy spell to wake up from, gradually wearing off so it started with blinking his eyelids, stirring of his body. It was slow, it wasn't even actually being awake until another hour later.  
  
He was quiet, not uttering a word, the sheets smelling of sex enough at first to satiate the heat of his body. He didn't even attempt to leave the bed. Derek could smell the mountain ash, and didn't feel like trying how far its reach was when the bed itself was safe. It didn't feel good to be trapped inside like that, he didn't understand why because the bed smelled like mate and sex but he was alone. Rolling around in the sheets, he attempted to get as much of the scents as possible, until it became unbearable.  
  
There was no attempt to call out to Stiles, or any other form of communication, his world was too limited to realize what was going on, lacked the capability to oversee the situation. To him, the bed was empty so he was alone. Always alone. Feverish hands ran along his own body, hand wrapped around his aching cock to give it some form of friction. Hips trusted upwards obscenely, fucking into his own fist. At first it was to attempt to douse the need, instinctively knowing how to pleasure himself. But then he realized there actually was somebody there and his entire body became aware of the potential of having more than his own hand, of seeking more than this inadequate way to get off.  
  
Covered in sweat and semen, the Hale's muscular body stretched out in a long line of tanned skin, flexing and moving, as if he was dancing in bed. It was to roll onto his stomach so he could spread his legs and put himself even more on display. With a whine he presented to beckon who was watching to come closer.

Stiles' sleep was fitful and shallow, not being able to fully relax from the situation, although the potions and balms seemed to work nicely while he was resting. By the time he stirred from soft whining, they reduced the pain to soreness. Thank fuck for druids and magic, because otherwise he wouldn't be able to bear the whole week in one piece.  
  
The whining repeated, this time more desperate and as Stiles finally blinked his eyes open, he realized that he could feel Derek's emotions again. The bond was too strong and his own soul and magic too entwined with the wolf's soul not to. Plus despite the situation – or exactly because of that – Stiles would never attempt to close out Derek in order to shun these feelings. He remembered all too well how it felt when Derek did close Stiles out that one time in the animal clinic when the inexperienced mage was so much more unstable.  
  
With an inaudible sigh, Stiles tried out his limbs. The rest did good to them, they weren't burning or aching, they just felt a bit heavier than usual. Even the light scratch marks on his sides faded somewhat. His ass was okay too. It felt a bit sore but otherwise he was probably good to go for one more round if it came to that. But the sight that welcomed him indicated otherwise.  
  
The naked lean man stopped around the corner, the sun's last red and orange burst of colors painting Derek's glistening body into an even more inviting vision. This time Stiles did gasp audibly as he was standing there, eyes following the dips and curves of his naked mate, the inviting pose and round butt which was presented to him so openly. Derek smelled like sex and desire and need. Stiles could smell it even from where he was standing, one already lubed up hand on his hardening cock to stroke it into a full erection.  
  
He knew Derek was still in heat, but he couldn't resist the sight. He also had the suspicion that he'd have to fight for the privilege to fuck that gorgeous piece of alpha butt, but he was willing to take the risk. So as he focused his magic more into his limbs to add some more strength to them (a neat little trick he cooked up and tried out on a smaller scale before falling asleep), he watched the wolf rubbing against the stained sheet. There was no doubt in Stiles' mind that he was painfully hard again.  
  
Then he walked over to the edge of the circle, but instead of breaking it, he simply stepped inside – just in case he needed a quick retreat for some reason. After all, the beast on the bed could easily hurt Stiles – if he let him. He let his glistening cock go as he focused on every move and sound Derek made and crawled closer, grabbing and pulling on an ass cheek firmly to signal his intentions.

Derek had felt the other inch closer and closer, so he bowed his head, half tilted to closely listen to the sounds made, anticipating the moves. The bed dipped from the added weight, a hand grabbed at a cheek firmly to open his hole up more and that's when he struck. Reaching for that hand, he slapped it away, grabbing the wrist of the other hand so he could pull the other with him when he rolled. It wasn't rough, not for werewolf standards, the hand on the wrist wasn't to bruise but to keep him there. It was playful almost, as if it was a challenge he was attempting to see where it would go.  
  
Manhandling the body, the wolf came out on top, straddling him. The eyes weren't red, the claws weren't out. The body was heated still, though, feverish, his erection almost looking painful with the dark red, almost purple color. All the orgasms hadn't tired the body out yet, he was still fully functioning on the needs he felt, the lust overpowering.  
  
The human's body smelled like magic and potions, healing salves. It radiated pain and discomfort, which wasn't all that inviting for him at the moment. Another whine made itself known, it was probably as close to an apology as Stiles was going to get today. Inhaling deeply, he pressed his face against the naked chest, nuzzling, exploring, licking. It's not a tactic to get Stiles aroused, he's already aroused, the erection is pressing against Derek's body. He wants to taste his mate, wants to make sure he smells like him, to make him his with his tongue.  
  
With a wriggle, the wolf slowly made his way back between the other's legs, where he knew the warm wet hole was to plunge inside. As muddled as his brain was, it certainly knew how to distract and seduce into getting his way.

Frankly, Stiles had expected such a literal turn of events. He was grateful that the fangs and claws weren't out so he didn't need to be careful about them for now. Only about the not vice-like but firm grip around his wrists. He rolled with Derek to avoid further injuries and stared back up at him. Green yet just as feral eyes looked back at him as if they were red. If Stiles had more time, he'd have analyzed that look out some more. How it was the eyes of an apex predator. How they were still too intelligent for an animal, but because of the instincts which took over, looking more like that. Still... that whine sounded and felt a lot like an apology and for a moment Stiles' defenses lowered.  
  
Of course, the cunning wolf used that to his own advantage and started licking him. And Stiles let him, enjoying the gentler treatment for a moment because he knew those were going to be rare and far in-between. But when Derek got too close to his ass, he wriggled away and strained against the hands holding him down.  
  
"No-no, big guy... Not this time. It's my turn. Now you're going to be _mine_ ," he grunted, voice still hoarse and his wrists began warming up with an amber glow, the scent of ozone crackling around them. Stiles could feel the magic building in him, concentrating into his arms and legs, lighting up his veins as he visualized being able to match the strength of the arms holding him down.  
  
Stiles steadied his breathing and then suddenly moved. For a split second he couldn't believe that it actually worked and he was free, but then he had to wrestle down and pin a wolf against the bed. Which – with some difficulty – he did and ended up the one straddling Derek, wrists pinned down. Stiles got a bit out of breath just from these moves due to his muscles protesting and controlling his magic, releasing some more so he could keep Derek's hand against the bed. He knew that would work at least since he did that before.

There was a growl when Stiles moved away, because that hadn't been the right move to be making. The words held very little meaning, not what his attention was focused on when there was a strange scent of ozone in the air, like electricity was building. Something bad was about to happen, he did realize that much at the thick heavy tension coiling in the air. It made him still, uncertain, since this wasn't supposed to be part of mating. The wrists he was holding were warming up, heating under his hands as if the human was about to go into rut himself.

And then the other broke free, making him growl louder. His challenge had been received and met, just as he had playfully attempted to so they could battle it out for dominance. The scuffle didn't last long at all, the younger man had more strength over him and in a baffling turn of events, Derek found himself flat on his back with Stiles over him, pressing him down.

To avoid too much struggling and protesting, Stiles moved quickly and slid lower, pushing the muscular legs apart an up so his lubed up cock could rub against the entrance. He knew there was no time for more preparation and that Derek would heal fast, so he began pushing, gritting his teeth together, one hand letting a thigh go to steady his own cock. Wrecked sounds slipped past his lips as it was so damn intense, but he knew he had to give something to his mate, so he rammed the remaining few inches in, panting and shuddering from the nearly too hot tightness around him.

Derek hadn't made it easy, he had struggled and bucked until the very last second, until he realized he really couldn't win this round. His hands were pinned together, kept there so his legs could be pushed apart, an erection against his hole before he could even snarl again.  
  
It ruthlessly plowed inside, everything too dry and tight, but how he loved the pain! It sent stabs up his spine in a reminder he had been bested and the winner took it all. Derek wanted it to hurt, wanted it to be as violent as he had taken it earlier. A choked up moan left him, his legs spreading more without it needing prompting as he angled his head back.  
  
It was an offering of throat, to be bitten, to claim the taken dominance. His hips pushed up, wanting to get a pace going, to be taken fully. The thick erection hadn't gone down either, it was leaking pre-cum onto his rippling stomach from the inner stimulant, the way the stiff rod pressed against his walls.  
  
"M-move." Talking was hard, talking was near impossible. The word had to be dragged from within to even make sense. They were garbled and guttural.

Stiles expected more resistance to come, but Derek seemed to accept his dominance over him and he knew he had to ride that out to fully win this round and spare himself another knotting he wasn't sure he'd be able to take right now. The guttural word surprised him, though, just as much as the offered throat. He understood the significance and symbolism of both. Derek talking even so deep in heat was something he didn't expect. That's why he did move. His hips pulled back and pushed right back in with a strangled sound. It was too much of a drag, too much heat, too much everything, but he did it anyway. He did it for both of them and his pre-cum and the lube made the slide easier. He could also feel Derek's body opening up for him with each thrust so he kept going.  
  
His slimmer body draped over the wolf's, back lit up in amber by the life tree tattoo since he kept pushing his magic into the hold over his mate, his hands free to lean onto next to Derek's shoulders. His teeth dug deeply into the offered throat, wanting that submission and need for him despite the situation – or probably more from exactly that.  
  
Stiles opened himself up, letting the wolf's need and emotions wash over him, making him move rougher and faster both to please Derek (also an attempt to sate the burning heat in him) and to work out some of his own frustrations too.

The magic still refused to do anything but to keep Derek down, they shared a bond but they were almost connected one-sided because Stiles could feel Derek but the wolf wasn't capable of understanding. The emotions he felt were overpowered by the need for mating, love and compassion, all was gone because of the fever wrecking his body which in turn made him wreck Stiles. He wanted sex, didn't care what kind of sex as long as he got a way to get off. So he gave into being dominated to get what he could.  
  
As the blunt human teeth wrapped around his throat to dig in, the wolf moaned loudly, enjoying the damaging of his skin even though it barely lasted for minutes. Stiles moved fast and rough, like he wanted to fuck the fire right out of Derek in the same manner the older man had taken him. It was only fair enough, especially considering he was going to heal the moment the erection wasn't impaled inside of him anymore. Not once did he attempt to bite or claw the other, he was just taking what he was getting with snarls and eager body thrusts. Encouraging the roughness and wanting more of it.  
  
An orgasm washed over him, without knotting this time, and his erection did go down somewhat, the many orgasms over the day at least dulling the fire slightly. It was still not enough, still wanted Stiles to keep on going and keep on fucking him for as long as possible.

The cum that splashed against his stomach did little to Stiles right now. Usually he'd get more turned on by that, but this time he was focusing on sating Derek as much as possible. Although he was starting to realize that it was probably not going to get better until the heat had run its course. But he had to stay strong, keep going like a machine. To give his mate what he needed so desperately.  
  
It was difficult despite the fact that he was still hard, his body reacting to the constant friction against his aching cock. He fucked Derek through that orgasm and continued with his trusts because he could feel that the wolf needed it. He'd go until it gets too painful. Stiles didn't even care anymore if he came or not. He had to focus on Derek and the magic that kept him pinned to the bed.  
  
He never had a lover with whom he didn't have some kind of emotional connection. Yes, he had some one-night-stands, but even then there was some kind of emotions involved. Now this was just about fucking. Which stood in sharp contrast with what he normally shared with Derek during their times together. It left him a bit hollower with each passing hour. (Maybe that feeling was feeding on the darkness of the Nemeton too. Maybe not. Stiles was currently too busy to check.)  
  
The human's trembling and sweaty body was determined to coax at least one more orgasm out of Derek before retreating for the night. For a few hours he... couldn't stand the idea of doing this again. But he will, if he has to.  
  
His own release that followed Derek's brought little relief to the exhausted human who was reeking of sex and Derek. He wanted to fall asleep on top of him, but he was too weary of Derek exploiting the situation so he kept his magical hold on his mate and got off him, only to shortly return with a plastic bottle with a light green colored liquid in it. He made Derek drink some of it both to hydrate the other man and to help him fall asleep to get some rest so Stiles could also clean him up somewhat before he was going to faint into sleep himself.

The one-sided care left a bitter hollow kind of tension in the air, souring what they had been working on building for the past months since they’ve been together. The strength in their bond had been based on love, and it had been hard enough to deal with Stiles' newfound magic and Derek's half-soul, combined with their troubled past. This rut complicated it even more, made it seem like it was nothing but a couple of bodies having sex together. Rough, uncontrolled sex.  
  
Still reeling from his orgasms, the wolf had no choice but to drink what was pressed against his lips. Stiles didn't bother offering him the bottle nor asked for him to drink it, the human knew it was going to be useless. It was laced with herbs to make him pass out, and it was the wisest decision Stiles could make right now. They had talked about the possibility of the human not being able to keep up with the rut. Derek had told him that if he needed it, he could keep the Hale under for the rest of the rut remaining if it came to that. Deep down he had known it was going to be way harder than his mate was anticipating it to be, considering that they both weren't into mindless sex at all.  
  
The fluid worked its way into his body, knocking him out swiftly. Eating and drinking little was a good thing this week, it would weaken the heat plaguing his body because his system had to focus on maintaining its health as well. Werewolves could do without food and water far longer than humans, there was no danger for him this week. They had food ready to be made for when the fever broke to kick start his healing afterwards.  
  
No, this week wasn't that rough on Derek, it was going to be rough for Stiles. He'd remember it all, he had to care for the feral alpha and had nobody around. It was painful and lonely, and it was exactly why Derek had been adamant not to do this. The Hale wouldn't remember much either way.


	3. 8: Heat and Fire - part 3

**8: Heat and Fire - Part 3**

The week of Derek's heat was indeed challenging and hard for the emissary. But he took care both of them without complaint. He made sure to sometimes give some drink and food to Derek (even if he didn't really need it right now) and washed him down whenever he was knocked out from the herb potions and Stiles had the energy to do so. He also forced himself to eat as regularly as he could, although he didn't really have the appetite. Still, it was needed both to let the healing potions and balms work effectively on him, and to keep his strength up. As much as possible. Because at the end of each day he fell asleep with such exhaustion that the few hours of sleep helped very little on the aches that have settled into his muscles and bones around day three.  
  
The scratches and the bruises on his body grew in number too, but he could manage most of them (which he could reach on his own) with the balms. Stiles was also kinda proud of himself that he didn't break down, only cried a little under the shower when the stinging of his wounds and tender flesh and the exhaustion took a better of him. But he always reminded himself that he was doing this for Derek. Because if the heat was this bad for him with a mate around, he was horrified to think how it'd be on his own. He had to firmly believe that he was helping the wolf at least a little bit.  
  
That thought and the updates about Beth and the outside world kept him going. When he felt that things were getting too much, he pulled up the cute pictures his dad kept sending him about Beth and him. Those stopped Stiles from sinking too low in his own darkness and the flashbacks from the more vicious matings. They were also reminders of his love for Derek. Of the love he knew was still there deep down in the wolf.  
  
At least his mountain ash circles and runes seemed to work well and there were times when he felt rested enough to continue his magical studies too. Yes, his magic was restless and kinda "out" all the time as the week progressed. Swirling around him like a protective aura. It wasn't only because of its "need" to protect Stiles, but also because the balance was off and his control was starting to slip a bit on it. They'd have to do some damage control once Derek came to himself, that was for sure...  
  
The eighth day's morning found himself sleeping on his side in bed with Derek, one hand on the wolf's. The last night of the rut left him too exhausted to get much further away after he made the wolf drink some of that apparently very effective potion so they both could rest some more. And at that point Stiles also didn't care if he was going to be wakened up by a wolf climbing on top of him for another round. He was too tired to care anymore. It was easier that way too. But still... he refused to leave his mate alone and kept searching for some kind of connection even in his sleep. Even if it was just their hands touching.

Waking up wasn't easy. Derek’s entire body felt heavy like he hadn't slept in a long while, muscles stiff, his eyes gritty and his head feeling fuzzy. He hated that kind of feeling, made it hard to focus on much because everything seemed far away, as if he was detached even from his own body. All he really wanted was to roll over and curl up to sleep some more but he couldn't. Not until he had checked his surroundings, until he knew where he was and with whom. Though the who wasn't so hard to guess, the loft was saturated with their shared scent. Thick and like syrup, heavily cloaking oxygen so each time he'd breathe, he'd taste them.  
  
It stank of sex, sweat and pain. And the last emotion made him crack his eyes open, his mouth tasting of rotten herbs when he attempted to swallow. A cooler hand had been placed on top of his, lightly grasping to seek contact so Derek looked from the hand up to the face of his bed partner. He couldn't stop the sharp inhale at seeing Stiles.  
  
Pale, heavy bags under his eyes, bruised all over from what he could see. He didn't look like the happy participant of a week full of rut, he looked like a survivor of abuse. Derek had no idea what he looked like himself, probably not the healthiest either but he was werewolf, it didn't compare. Whatever marks he had, they were long healed and even though the rut had exhausted him completely, it was nothing compared to the human. He was only going to remember flashes of what happened, he didn't even know how much time had passed, what day it was. They were both cleaned, but not clean. A shower was needed in the very near future when he was able to move and think.  
  
His mate was asleep, he didn't want to disturb that and he was fighting against the sleep attempting to take him himself. Each time he started to doze off, he'd blink slowly, feeling the tug at the muscle in the back of his head. Eyes burned and his stomach complained whenever he moved. He needed to be awake for Stiles.

Something has shifted. Something has changed. Stiles could sense it and it took him some time to realize that it wasn't coming from the dreamless sleep he fainted into a few hours back. It was coming from the "outside". That made him somewhat more aware and his fingers unwittingly flexed around Derek's hand.  
  
_Derek..._  
  
That thought jerked his mind closer to the surface and his breathing changed, signaling that he was about to wake up. When that finally happened, he carefully blinked his eyes open (half-expecting a horny and hungry werewolf). But instead it was Derek who was trying to stay awake next to him, looking back at him. It was really him. Without a word uttered, Stiles could tell just from the look. Finally gone was the feral need to fuck. There were more complicated emotions in the green eyes. It was his mate.  
  
That made Stiles smile at him warmly and with relief.  
  
"Derek..." he whispered hoarsely and laced their fingers together but otherwise didn't move an inch. "How are you feeling? Are you okay?" he asked as if he couldn't feel the dizziness and tiredness on his mate. But he wanted to hear him talk. He wanted that so desperately after 8 days of silence. (If we don't count that one word he managed to utter while in rut.)

He nodded at first, not realizing his mate was wanting to hear him speak, not even realizing he hadn't spoken at all in days. It wasn't that unheard of for Derek Hale to be utterly silent for weeks on end if he had been by himself. As important as it was for him to be able to hear Stiles' voice, he forgot that the other would enjoy it as well. The nod wasn't a lie though, he was fine, it was exhaustion and the herbs in his body. Nothing a few days of sleep and food wouldn't cure. Who even cared about how he was feeling? He wasn't the one looking like death warmed over. Probably.  
  
Reaching out, he touched a pale cheek with his thumb, while his other hand was tightly clasped. "I should be asking you that," he rasped, his throat not used to talking anymore, the rawness of his growls and shouts long healed. The ruts in Hell had left him injured for days, because of all the damage he had done to himself, and they had always made him feel lonely, abandoned, unwanted.  
  
Might be preferable to this though, seeing the human's body so damaged by his hands was incredibly hard. Expected of a sight to wake up to, but that didn't make it any easier. "I shouldn't... I'm sorry."  
  
For whatever he had done, none of it could have been something Stiles had enjoyed. The magic felt off, the human smelling of pain.

The tension broke and suddenly bled out of Stiles' whole being, leaving waves of relief rush through him. It _was_ Derek! And he was alright. That's all that mattered to the other, so no wonder his eyes welled up and he sniffed as he leaned into Derek's touch on his face, its warmth filling him up with that too. He immediately felt less tired and moved his upper-body closer.  
  
"I've missed you so much..." he rasped then gently kissed the other man's lips a few times. "Welcome back," Stiles added and smiled softly and with quiet happiness at his mate. Words would fail to express just how glad he was for getting the real Derek back. Now he understood what Derek had meant during their first quarrel about spending the rut together. Even Stiles will need time to process and work through the last week.  
  
"I know, don't worry," he caressed the longer beard once he let Derek's hand go. "I'll be fine. I promise," the human said in a much better mood than for the last few days. "You must be thirsty. Let me get you some water." With that Stiles – pointedly ignoring the pains in his body – pushed himself up on his hands to turn around and reach for the bottle of water by the bed. He just couldn't seem to be able to stop wanting to care for his mate.  
  
But as he did turn his back on Derek, he quickly realized that he had made a mistake. The gasp behind him tipped him off. Aside from some smaller bruises, there was a longer and somewhat deeper claw mark on his lower back, but he remembered now the cause of the constant burning throbbing by his nape and why he could feel the shock through their bond too.  
  
"I'm fine!" he hurried to reassure Derek as he whipped his head back to look at him. "Please, don't start to panic..." he grumbled and fetched the water either way, needing to occupy his hands with something.

There was no way Derek was going to stop worrying, not even when those marks had all faded. The human was going to be fine physically sure, but that didn't erase what happened. He wanted to protest at the offer of a drink, he could get it himself eventually. Stiles didn't have to care for him anymore, if anything, it should be the other way around. But he was already moving to reach for the water, the pain heavier in the air. That wasn't what was drawing his attention though.  
  
"You're not fine! You're..." The claw mark was deep, gaping open and probably needed some stitches. It had been an injury he had been expecting to see, had dreaded to find it but he had known it was a very real possibility he had prepared himself for. Stiles had done a good job of preventing life threatening injuries on himself, almost. Because on the back of his neck was the deep indent of Derek's teeth, his alpha teeth, looking angry and pulsing, it wasn't dripping blood so it wasn't from last night but how old was it? How long ago had the bite taken place?

"I bit you."  
  
A mating bite, claimed in the right spot, a very feral thing to do, a very dangerous thing to do. It was a good reason to panic! "How long ago?" he demanded to know before he'd really panic. The thought of turning his own mate against his will not one he wanted to have, the thought of having to see him reject it... He'd stay, of course he'd stay, even though his stomach was already plummeting with possible flashbacks of having to lose another love of his life like that. And even if he was immune to the bite, it still meant Derek had crossed a line he never had wanted to cross. The bite was a gift, he wouldn't give it to somebody unwilling. Not if he had a say about it, which he hadn't with Victoria or Gerard. Those had been wrenched out of him and he had to feel one of them die. Like most of his pack had died. Over and over.  
  
He couldn't with Stiles, he couldn't lose him. Not him.  
  
He frantically reached for the bite, to feel it, to... what… it was too late to do anything. "Stiles....." His mate had given his body for the rut, to lessen Derek's suffering and he had rewarded him by biting him. He was a terrible person. The worst. Everyone around him got hurt. He did that.

"Around last dawn. Along with the claw mark. I think that was the hardest day on you," he started to shrug but stopped himself with a quiet wince as it pulled on the bite. "It's not spreading. My magic prevents it and I can feel it burning the bite out from the inside out," he explained. Derek was so very much panicking already. Of course, Stiles hated to feel that on him as he was sitting there and took a hand in his. Strangely, Stiles stayed calm. No panic attack on the horizon. Maybe he was just too tired for that. After all, he knew he could've slept for at least three days in a row from the exhaustion and the relief that Derek was himself again only added to that feeling.  
  
He took Derek's hand in his and kept his grip firm, not allowing for his mate to pull away or close him out. "I wanted it. I wanted your mating bite on me." Stiles knew he had to state that because he remembered how Derek was with consent. "It'll be my favorite scar," he attempted a smile then sighed. "Okay, fine... I actually enjoyed it." Which wasn't a lie. That mating was brutal with lots of fighting for dominance (hence the deep claw mark on his lower back). But when the knot popped in and soon squeezed a good orgasm out of Stiles, the burning bite only added to his euphoria.  
  
"I think once you took some pain away and I borrowed some of your healing... the magic will tip back in balance and slowly burn the rest of it out. Right now it's stagnating because of my low energy levels," the emissary explained, his other hand stilling on the water bottle as he looked at Derek again. "I'll be fine," he repeated.

It was hard to breathe for a moment, Derek’s thumb gliding over the angry bite where glimmers of ember were shining through the damaged skin where normally blood would be, or the inky dark fluid of rejection. He remembered how he had freaked out when it had happened to Jackson, how he had all but ran from the bathroom at school and had abandoned the beta, too caught up in what happened to Paige in the past, not a move he had been particularly proud of. Jackson hadn't wanted Derek around but it had been his job to see it through, not to be huddled up in the corner of the train station to block out all the bad. _It’s not spreading._ He reminded himself, attempting to let the words sink in fully.  
  
_It’s not spreading._ Stiles wasn't going to die, he wasn't going to be a werewolf, Derek didn't add him to the beta curse. A choked up gasp left him, breathing again. Stiles had wanted it, and there was no uptick in his heart, he wasn't lying with that. Unfortunately, that was all he had to go on, his memories might come back in some flashes at some point. Mostly he had Stiles' countenance of this week to go on, if he was even willing to tell him. It wasn't a perfect truth, because Stiles had wanted to help Derek so that's where the truth came from, he had wanted to help and therefor was willing.  
  
Stiles’ breathing came out squeaking, but he was fine, he wasn't panicking, it was fine. The bite didn't take, it was going to scar but it didn't take. That was all that mattered at the moment.

"So take my healing," Derek demanded because he wasn't going to even eat or sleep or drink until his mate was more or less fine. Not this painting of pain and demand and mating. His fingers slid around Stiles' neck to pull pain because that's what was needed, black tendrils shooting up his arms, his shoulders, up to his face. There was _a lot_ of pain.

"Slow down, Derek," Stiles warned him, making a half-move to pull away, but the ebbing down of the constant pain felt too good to really go through with that, so he settled back once he saw the black veins retreating somewhat. He knew it could get dangerous for Derek to take too much pain at once. It would dim or even completely extinguish the alpha spark in him. Saving Cora did that to him in the past and Stiles didn't want to be the cause of that. No, they needed a strong alpha. His magic needed that too. The druid didn't dare to think what'd happen to Derek or him if he was no longer alpha. He didn't want to guess if Derek would be able to handle this amount of magic as a beta or an omega. After all, their life could depend on that.  
  
Stiles closed his tired eyes and stayed motionless for a couple of minutes. Each breath came a little bit easier as the pain was finally receding. It made his head clearer and his being more aware, able to focus better. With a sigh, he reluctantly slid his hand from Derek's and up on his forearm so their runes could align. He wasn't surprised that his powers seemed to latch on that opportunity to move like a pouncing eager beast for the connection. He had to use a considerable amount of his remaining energy to hold it back and slow it down so it wouldn't hurt their arms as it traveled back and forth between them.  
  
He grunted in displeasure but then tightened his hold around the warm forearm and began his low chanting to open up their connection and focus on finding a thread of healing energy to gently tug on. Because of the 'rushing all over the place' and barely contained magic, it felt like swimming in a strong current. But it wasn't painful at least. He even had a small fond half-smile in the corner of his lips, because the magic acted like an eager puppy returning home after a while.  
  
The pressure in the druid's head lessened as well as the pain in his body and when he finally found a suitable thread, he latched onto it with his amber one and began pulling the healing energy into his own body through their arms. It was a strange sensation. Both cooling and warming wherever that energy went, starting to heal the worst of his injuries.

"It's fine." It wasn't an illness or poison like Cora had been suffering from, she had been dying and that was why Derek had lost his spark when he had taken her pain. It hadn't been just a pulling of pain, it had been him healing her and giving her everything he had to give, including his spark. Which is something he'd do for Stiles without hesitation but right now it wasn't needed. He was, however, appalled, at how much pain the human was feeling, the deep bruises, the claw marks, the wounds inside of him from the rough sex. Derek had done it all so he had the right to undo it all as well. He needed to for his own peace of mind.  
  
It would be a risk to give his spark away for their connection. The Hale wouldn't be beta, he'd be omega, it would be another strain on Stiles and it might even ruin the strength of the magic. So that was a choice he didn't make lightly, if it would ever come to it. Not one they had to make right now.  
  
Right now, the magic came rushing forward, welcoming him in with an embrace of warm lava. Almost like an abandoned pet, it explored with this sense of glee, probably had been unable to connect this entire time the alpha had been in rut. Stiles hadn't been kidding when he had missed his mate, he must have felt incredibly lonely this entire time. Derek focused on letting Stiles take what he needed, never once resisting the magic and his mate, quietly sitting there on the bed so the younger man could use his healing.  
  
With the pain he had already pulled, the healing didn't feel all that different. Everything Stiles felt, he felt, it didn't show on his body, like pain pulling wouldn't. Essentially Derek took the pain of the other in himself so his body could heal it. Werewolves could withstand more pain, their healing could take on a lot, even what would have killed a human. It was a good thing there were no life threatening injuries though, he wasn't at his strongest at the moment. Nevertheless, he welcomed his mate and the magic home, to heal him all the way, every little scratch, every small bruise, all the much worse injuries. Everything.

It took a while for the energy to patch and heal Stiles up, but it was working. He could feel muscles and tissues and skin re-knitting, leaving a little soreness and tingling in its wake. He knew that all injuries would completely heal – except for the bite on the back of his neck. That would be the "crown jewel" of his collection of scars which he was going to wear proudly. He wasn't kidding when he had told Derek that he wanted it. He wanted it for a while, but knew his mate wouldn't give him such a scar when he was conscious. Derek was too concerned about his safety and would've refused in fear that it might kill Stiles. Well... the rut took care of this wish after all. And it was a kind of reward for enduring this week that the emissary was going to treasure. He belonged to Derek and this was the visual proof of that next to their mingled scents and (to most) invisible bonds.  
  
The pale skin was glowing from magic and slick from some sweat because of the healing process, but mostly because Derek's energy had a lot to do on him. Especially around and in the bite. That was the most fascinating (and only painful) area to receive that energy. As Stiles closed his eyes and focused on the quiet chanting and to keep his breathing even, he could feel the wolf's energy melt into his own magic to help it burn out the wolf bite. It caused the smoldering amber glow to intensify and even sizzle a bit around the angry red flesh as they were working together to heal the bite so it could scar over.  
  
Stiles' breathing hitched and he paused for a moment, leaning on his free hand on the bed to draw in a few breaths to steel himself against the pain. It wasn't that intense, he could've taken it easier any time, but he was worn down and exhausted after spending the week with his in-heat mate. To prevent Derek from worrying even more, he quickly collected himself and resumed to the chanting, letting the burning wash over him until it started to ebb down and give way to the cooling and healing werewolf energy.

Derek couldn't change the pain, because pulling it wouldn't do much, with the way they were linked, Stiles would feel it as much as he did now. It was the wolf venom being burned out, rejected. Normally it would have hurt far more if there hadn't been magic involved, if his healing wasn't borrowed. They shared the pain together, suffered both through it as their bodies worked on healing. Until it all faded away into nothingness and only a pink scar remained. That wasn't going to go away, Stiles was preventing it from fully healing and Derek wasn't going to push him into it either. If that's what he wanted, then that would stay. As long as the pain was gone. As long as the injuries he had inflicted had healed.  
  
The exhaustion pulled at Derek, not sure if was his or his mate's. Probably both because it had been a strenuous week, even for a werewolf like him. The need for sleep trumped the need for water or food. All he really wanted at this point was to sink into the soft mattress and only wake up until he was rested enough to be able to function instead of this fuzzy-headed feeling. The magic still connected them though and he wasn't the one able to break it.  
  
This was Stiles' show, his ability, Derek was merely a conduit for it and sure, it liked him enough to accept him but it wasn't something he could wield. It was controlled within him, stored. That was all he did. Having no idea what would happen if he broke the connection without the proper ending, he decided he didn't want to know. Stiles was no doubt feeling it as well, the insistent need for rest, both their bodies were ready to pass out if they weren't careful. He couldn't speak, maybe it was an automatic ward to not interrupt his mate from chanting so he prodded at their bonds with some urgency. The unsettling hum in his ears, the rolling of his stomach were all signs he was going to pass out.

Although the magic and Derek's healing helped on both of them, they also put a strain on their bodies, leaving them even more exhausted than before. Stiles could feel it. How Derek was drifting once the pain was finally gone. He had no idea either how the magic or the connection would react if Derek passed out in the middle of the ritual, but he didn't wish to find that out.  
  
Checking on the magic, he felt it balanced enough to gently push back and let the healing thread go, silently thanking it in his mind, even if he knew it wasn't an entity. But if there was something he had learned about any kind of magic, it was that you had to be respectful towards it. Plus his own magic was kinda "alive" too. Unconscious, but still reacted sometimes as if it had a mind of its own. So who could tell if Derek's healing didn't have such a "consciousness" – even if it was a lesser form of magic?  
  
Either way, Stiles nodded to the light nudging he felt through the bonds and finished the chanting just when their connection broke, his magic reluctantly pulling back into him, the Spark dimming but content after the successful exchange. Given the special circumstances of being just after a rut and serious healing session, the druid had no idea if this time was going to make Derek high again or not. But it didn't really matter either because all the two of them were going to do now was sleep. Everything else can come after that.  
  
The exhausted human took a long swig from the water once he let Derek's arm go. He ignored the by then uncomfortable feeling that always lasted a couple of minutes after these rituals. It was caused by the lack of physical contact with his mate. Though that was something he could easily solve now, so he dropped the bottle on the bed, not caring if it rolled off onto the floor or not. All he was focused on now was lying down next to the already half-asleep man and cover their naked bodies up.  
  
"Sleep, my wolf. Thank you..." he whispered to Derek, his own fingertips lingering on the freshly healed and sensitive scar by his nape. Stiles stomped down on the urge to go take a look in the bathroom mirror. He can do that later. Derek's eyes were closed, but he did pull Stiles closer so their bodies could mold together. Arms and legs around each other.  
  
The familiar warmth and smell, but most importantly the gentle arms around him drew a relieved sigh from Stiles. He was home again. He could finally relax and sleep for real after eight days. And that he did in the next moment, knowing that his wards and the ash would keep their sleep undisturbed.


End file.
